Chords for Patrick Feeney - Barley hill - irish music.wmv
Tempo:
97.375 bpm
Chords used:
G
Ab
D
Eb
C
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[C] [G] [D] [G]
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
She left her home so young to roam, when she was [D] just a child,
Pressure played around her lovely hands, with its rich fruit [G] growing wild.
The apple trees all letting down, can haunt her [C] memories still,
Her heart feels [G] sore to walk once [D] more round the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
She is everything a girl could need, apart her [D] light and true,
A ring upon her finger, brought tears like [G] morning dew.
She'll leave what all of she hears her call, from home to [C] Mary Clune,
She loves it [G] still, old Barley [D] Hill, with the dams and [G] trees in bloom.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
[C] [G] [D]
[G] [Eb] [Ab] Those words she said, I will not write, for I wouldn't [Eb] feel content,
As money cannot bring the joy where my childhood [Ab] days were spent.
As she wiped a tear in another year, she'll return of [Db] God's little will,
To rest those [Ab] leased little southerly trees [Eb] at the bloom round [Ab] Barley Hill.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
[Db] When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
She left her home so young to roam, when she was [D] just a child,
Pressure played around her lovely hands, with its rich fruit [G] growing wild.
The apple trees all letting down, can haunt her [C] memories still,
Her heart feels [G] sore to walk once [D] more round the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
She is everything a girl could need, apart her [D] light and true,
A ring upon her finger, brought tears like [G] morning dew.
She'll leave what all of she hears her call, from home to [C] Mary Clune,
She loves it [G] still, old Barley [D] Hill, with the dams and [G] trees in bloom.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
[C] [G] [D]
[G] [Eb] [Ab] Those words she said, I will not write, for I wouldn't [Eb] feel content,
As money cannot bring the joy where my childhood [Ab] days were spent.
As she wiped a tear in another year, she'll return of [Db] God's little will,
To rest those [Ab] leased little southerly trees [Eb] at the bloom round [Ab] Barley Hill.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
[Db] When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
Key:
G
Ab
D
Eb
C
G
Ab
D
_ [C] _ _ [G] _ _ [D] _ _ [G] _
_ _ The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ She left her home so young to roam, when she was [D] just a child,
Pressure played around her lovely hands, with its rich fruit [G] growing wild.
The apple trees all letting down, can haunt her [C] memories still,
Her heart feels [G] sore to walk once [D] more round the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ She is everything a girl could need, apart her [D] light and true,
A ring upon her finger, brought tears like [G] morning dew.
She'll leave what all of she hears her call, from home to [C] Mary Clune,
She loves it [G] still, old Barley [D] Hill, with the dams and [G] trees in bloom. _
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ _ [C] _ _ [G] _ _ [D] _
_ [G] _ _ [Eb] _ [Ab] Those words she said, I will not write, for I wouldn't [Eb] feel content,
As money cannot bring the joy where my childhood [Ab] days were spent.
As she wiped a tear in another year, she'll return of [Db] God's little will,
To rest those [Ab] leased little southerly trees [Eb] at the bloom round [Ab] Barley Hill.
_ The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill. _
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
[Db] When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ She left her home so young to roam, when she was [D] just a child,
Pressure played around her lovely hands, with its rich fruit [G] growing wild.
The apple trees all letting down, can haunt her [C] memories still,
Her heart feels [G] sore to walk once [D] more round the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ She is everything a girl could need, apart her [D] light and true,
A ring upon her finger, brought tears like [G] morning dew.
She'll leave what all of she hears her call, from home to [C] Mary Clune,
She loves it [G] still, old Barley [D] Hill, with the dams and [G] trees in bloom. _
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [D] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [G] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [C] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [G] back to Kingsport [D] and the dear old [G] Barley Hill.
_ _ [C] _ _ [G] _ _ [D] _
_ [G] _ _ [Eb] _ [Ab] Those words she said, I will not write, for I wouldn't [Eb] feel content,
As money cannot bring the joy where my childhood [Ab] days were spent.
As she wiped a tear in another year, she'll return of [Db] God's little will,
To rest those [Ab] leased little southerly trees [Eb] at the bloom round [Ab] Barley Hill.
_ The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill. _
The hand of the Irish club in London, in that part of [Eb] distant ground,
A breftly lashing's dancing to a well-known [Ab] Irish band.
The music left her lonesome, heart and the [Db] heart still still,
When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill.
[Db] When her thoughts drift [Ab] back to Kingsport [Eb] and the dear old [Ab] Barley Hill. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _