Chords for The Corries --- The Bloody Sarks
Tempo:
98 bpm
Chords used:
Ab
Fm
Eb
Db
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Jam Along & Learn...
The young MacGregor robed [Fm] and strayed away to his [Ab] men,
Upon the Argyll, slaking white, but friendless, glad of fame.
The one and three, the meel and ran from [Fm] all the beasts of [Ab] war,
And left the vent where Birkhead men to perish in the snow.
My father's deal, the letter, [Fm] come fair black, the mottom [Ab] tune,
To show the way they worked again [Eb] to bring MacGregor down.
A bloody [Ab] sword so [Fm] butchered meant to Jamie's court one day,
[Ab] A widow one unfought to show and tell all the afraid.
And the last good foal [Fm] named Mary trampled savage pride,
[Ab] Birkhead and Levy's mounted up to turn MacGregor [Eb] high.
But [Ab] Levy's failed and [Db] Barton too, and all [Ab] these stolen parts,
The badges and feathers came with vengeance in their hearts.
Campbell and [Fm] Cameron, MacDonnell, O'Loughlin, [Ab] Cole,
Rang the language, MacGregor, I come marching over [Eb] snow.
Far [Ab] o'er the Loughley Arc, the Glen [Fm] and Dune, the Pass, [Ab] Barlain,
By Lough Long whose shores are [Eb] held by the thieves of [Ab] MacFarlane.
Conways, Windy [Fm] Lowland, Maudline, Dor, the Fruen Glen,
[Ab] Five hundred foot, a raid about three hundred mounted [Eb] men.
Young [Ab] godless foal, [Db] MacGregor, I come to those other [Ab] kind,
While Creepney, Mip, and the Heathland lair were more drunk than their minds.
I'm a mead for [Fm] some stirks, I'm just a wien of [Ab] blanks,
The rye was wiped by Dirk's, the stick it in another's [Eb] wax.
Or [Ab] all this men and kids [Fm] got snobby, or trumped in their manure,
[Ab] You see my gods on your side, or that was me do.
And like a torn and frayed, [Fm] a Glen MacGregor's scarlet [Ab] charge,
The Sassanach could never stand, the Claymore and the [Eb] Dodge,
And [Ab] all around the hillies screams of torrent iron men,
Their precious blood seeped in the mud and drained in Fruen land.
And every beast was led [Fm] awaful to a thousand heath,
[Ab] And the searest rights the victors paid was called a Gregor's [Eb] Deed.
But [Ab] mighty yet the victors' feast was still to show,
When the king proclaimed that Gregor I am scorned to be of low.
I am home, Gregor, and this clan, what all declare not law.
[N]
Upon the Argyll, slaking white, but friendless, glad of fame.
The one and three, the meel and ran from [Fm] all the beasts of [Ab] war,
And left the vent where Birkhead men to perish in the snow.
My father's deal, the letter, [Fm] come fair black, the mottom [Ab] tune,
To show the way they worked again [Eb] to bring MacGregor down.
A bloody [Ab] sword so [Fm] butchered meant to Jamie's court one day,
[Ab] A widow one unfought to show and tell all the afraid.
And the last good foal [Fm] named Mary trampled savage pride,
[Ab] Birkhead and Levy's mounted up to turn MacGregor [Eb] high.
But [Ab] Levy's failed and [Db] Barton too, and all [Ab] these stolen parts,
The badges and feathers came with vengeance in their hearts.
Campbell and [Fm] Cameron, MacDonnell, O'Loughlin, [Ab] Cole,
Rang the language, MacGregor, I come marching over [Eb] snow.
Far [Ab] o'er the Loughley Arc, the Glen [Fm] and Dune, the Pass, [Ab] Barlain,
By Lough Long whose shores are [Eb] held by the thieves of [Ab] MacFarlane.
Conways, Windy [Fm] Lowland, Maudline, Dor, the Fruen Glen,
[Ab] Five hundred foot, a raid about three hundred mounted [Eb] men.
Young [Ab] godless foal, [Db] MacGregor, I come to those other [Ab] kind,
While Creepney, Mip, and the Heathland lair were more drunk than their minds.
I'm a mead for [Fm] some stirks, I'm just a wien of [Ab] blanks,
The rye was wiped by Dirk's, the stick it in another's [Eb] wax.
Or [Ab] all this men and kids [Fm] got snobby, or trumped in their manure,
[Ab] You see my gods on your side, or that was me do.
And like a torn and frayed, [Fm] a Glen MacGregor's scarlet [Ab] charge,
The Sassanach could never stand, the Claymore and the [Eb] Dodge,
And [Ab] all around the hillies screams of torrent iron men,
Their precious blood seeped in the mud and drained in Fruen land.
And every beast was led [Fm] awaful to a thousand heath,
[Ab] And the searest rights the victors paid was called a Gregor's [Eb] Deed.
But [Ab] mighty yet the victors' feast was still to show,
When the king proclaimed that Gregor I am scorned to be of low.
I am home, Gregor, and this clan, what all declare not law.
[N]
100% ➙ 98BPM
Ab
Fm
Eb
Db
Ab
Fm
Eb
Db
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ The young MacGregor robed [Fm] and strayed away to his [Ab] men,
Upon the Argyll, slaking white, but friendless, glad of fame.
The one and three, the meel and ran from [Fm] all the beasts of [Ab] war,
And left the vent where Birkhead men to perish in the snow.
_ My father's deal, the letter, [Fm] come fair black, the mottom [Ab] tune,
To show the way they worked again [Eb] to bring MacGregor down.
A bloody [Ab] sword so [Fm] butchered meant to Jamie's court one day,
[Ab] A widow one unfought to show and tell all the afraid.
_ And the last good foal [Fm] named Mary trampled savage pride,
[Ab] Birkhead and Levy's mounted up to turn MacGregor [Eb] high.
But [Ab] Levy's failed and [Db] Barton too, and all [Ab] these stolen parts,
The badges and feathers came with vengeance in their hearts.
_ Campbell and [Fm] Cameron, MacDonnell, O'Loughlin, [Ab] Cole,
Rang the language, MacGregor, I come marching over [Eb] snow.
Far [Ab] o'er the Loughley Arc, the Glen [Fm] and Dune, the Pass, [Ab] Barlain,
By Lough Long whose shores are [Eb] held by the thieves of [Ab] MacFarlane.
_ _ Conways, Windy [Fm] Lowland, Maudline, Dor, the Fruen Glen,
[Ab] Five hundred foot, a raid about three hundred mounted [Eb] men.
Young [Ab] godless foal, [Db] MacGregor, I come to those other [Ab] kind,
While Creepney, Mip, and the Heathland lair were more drunk than their _ minds.
I'm a mead for [Fm] some stirks, I'm just a wien of [Ab] blanks,
The rye was wiped by Dirk's, the stick it in another's [Eb] wax.
Or [Ab] all this men and kids [Fm] got snobby, or trumped in their manure,
[Ab] You see my gods on your side, or that was me do.
_ And like a torn and frayed, [Fm] a Glen MacGregor's scarlet [Ab] charge,
The Sassanach could never stand, the Claymore and the [Eb] Dodge,
And [Ab] all around the hillies screams of torrent iron men,
Their precious blood seeped in the mud and drained in Fruen land.
_ And every beast was led [Fm] awaful to a thousand heath,
[Ab] And the searest rights the victors paid was called a Gregor's [Eb] Deed.
But [Ab] mighty yet the victors' feast was still to show,
When the king proclaimed that Gregor I am scorned to be of low.
I am home, Gregor, and this _ clan, what all declare not law. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ The young MacGregor robed [Fm] and strayed away to his [Ab] men,
Upon the Argyll, slaking white, but friendless, glad of fame.
The one and three, the meel and ran from [Fm] all the beasts of [Ab] war,
And left the vent where Birkhead men to perish in the snow.
_ My father's deal, the letter, [Fm] come fair black, the mottom [Ab] tune,
To show the way they worked again [Eb] to bring MacGregor down.
A bloody [Ab] sword so [Fm] butchered meant to Jamie's court one day,
[Ab] A widow one unfought to show and tell all the afraid.
_ And the last good foal [Fm] named Mary trampled savage pride,
[Ab] Birkhead and Levy's mounted up to turn MacGregor [Eb] high.
But [Ab] Levy's failed and [Db] Barton too, and all [Ab] these stolen parts,
The badges and feathers came with vengeance in their hearts.
_ Campbell and [Fm] Cameron, MacDonnell, O'Loughlin, [Ab] Cole,
Rang the language, MacGregor, I come marching over [Eb] snow.
Far [Ab] o'er the Loughley Arc, the Glen [Fm] and Dune, the Pass, [Ab] Barlain,
By Lough Long whose shores are [Eb] held by the thieves of [Ab] MacFarlane.
_ _ Conways, Windy [Fm] Lowland, Maudline, Dor, the Fruen Glen,
[Ab] Five hundred foot, a raid about three hundred mounted [Eb] men.
Young [Ab] godless foal, [Db] MacGregor, I come to those other [Ab] kind,
While Creepney, Mip, and the Heathland lair were more drunk than their _ minds.
I'm a mead for [Fm] some stirks, I'm just a wien of [Ab] blanks,
The rye was wiped by Dirk's, the stick it in another's [Eb] wax.
Or [Ab] all this men and kids [Fm] got snobby, or trumped in their manure,
[Ab] You see my gods on your side, or that was me do.
_ And like a torn and frayed, [Fm] a Glen MacGregor's scarlet [Ab] charge,
The Sassanach could never stand, the Claymore and the [Eb] Dodge,
And [Ab] all around the hillies screams of torrent iron men,
Their precious blood seeped in the mud and drained in Fruen land.
_ And every beast was led [Fm] awaful to a thousand heath,
[Ab] And the searest rights the victors paid was called a Gregor's [Eb] Deed.
But [Ab] mighty yet the victors' feast was still to show,
When the king proclaimed that Gregor I am scorned to be of low.
I am home, Gregor, and this _ clan, what all declare not law. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _