Broad Majestic Shannon

The last time I saw you was down at the Greeks,

There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on your cheeks.

You sang me a song that was pure as the breeze,

On a road leading up Glenaveigh.

I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe,

Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom.

Heard the men coming from the fair at Shinrone,

Their hats in Tipperary wherever they go.

Chorus

Take my hand and dry your ears babe,

Take my hand forget your fears babe.

There's no pain there's no more sorrow,

They've all gone, gone in the years babe.

1 sat for a while by a gap in the wall

Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball

Heard the cards being dealt, and the rosary called

And a fiddle playing Sean Dun na ngall

And the next time I see you we'll be down at the Greeks

There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks

For it's stupid to laugh and it's useless to bawl

About a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball.

So I walked as day was dawning

Where small birds sang and leaves were falling

Where once we watched the row boats landing,

By the broad Majestic Shannon.