Chords for Charlie Robison - John O'Reilly

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
My name is John O'Reilly and my father [G] worked the fields in the hills of [D] old Killarney where I helped and [A] turned the wheels.
[D] My arms grew hard as iron for a boy of [G] seventeen and I used my [D] fists for gambling [A] in those wet [D] Killarney streets.
_ _ _ _ Well a ship left for New York, I took my [G] pack of oats and said goodbye to [D] my dear Ireland, said a prayer to [A] my dear Lord.
[D] Well I fought those sorry guineas in Kitchen [G] Acorn Hill, well I fought them [D] for their dollar [A] and those guineas [D] paid me well,
fairly well, fared over, fared until your [G] season's turned, well my pockets [D] will be chingling on the day of [Bm] my return, [A] the day of [D] my return. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _ _
[D] _ _ _ _ [Bm] _ _ [A] _ _
[D] _ _ _ Well I fought in New York City and I fought [G] Jersey Shore, well my gut stayed [D] full of whiskey and my bed stayed [A] full of ore.
[D] Well they called my right a cannonball, my left they [G] called the same, and I left them [D] all a lying [A] half in blood and [D] half in shame.
_ Well I met a man on 32 and he stuck [G] out his hand and he offered [D] me a thousand if I'd fall before [A] his man,
[D] well I said it could be done but only for [G] another two and he smiled at [D] me and nodded [A] as I stuck it [D] in my shoe.
Fairly well, fared over, fared until your [G] season's turned, well my pockets [D] will be chingling on the day of [Bm] my return, [A] the day of [D] my return. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _ _
[D] _ _ _ _ [Bm] _ _ [A] _ _
[D] _ _ _ Well I rang the bell two times before I let him have [G] my nose, and I let him [D] work my left until my eye was [A] swollen closed,
[D] then I let loose right the place didn't talk [G] about today, or that guinea it [D] didn't know that [A] I had fed the [D] other way.
Well I covered every dock and every port there [G] on the coast, looking for the [D] double crosser who had turned [A] into a ghost,
[D] but I was on a train my friend that rode the [G] other way, and I'll sail from [D] California [A] back to Dublin [D] one fine day.
Fairly well, fared over, fared until your [G] season's turned, well my pockets [D] will be chingling on the day of [Bm] my return, [A] the day of [D] my return. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _ _
[D] _ _ _ _ [Bm] _ _ [A] _ _
[D] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [G] _ _ _ _ [D] _ _
_ _ [Bm] _ _ [A] _ _ [D] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _ [Bm] _
_ _ [A] _ _ [D] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [A] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _