Chords for The H-Block Song
Tempo:
135.3 bpm
Chords used:
D
G
Bm
Dm
A
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Jam Along & Learn...
[D]
I am a proud young Irishman, In Ulster's hills my life began.
[Bm] A happy boy through [D] griefy dread, I kept God's and man's love.
And when my age was barely ten, My country's rungs were tolled again.
By [Bm] tens of thousands [Dm]
marching men, My heart stood to [A] the [D] call.
I wear no [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G]
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
I learned of centuries of strife, Of cruel love, injustice, and rife.
And I saw now in my own young life, The fruit's foreign sway.
The testers threatened, tortured, maimed, The vision nurtured, passions flamed.
How rape evokes, rights caused to faint, This is conqueror's way.
I wear no
[G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G]
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
The sentence of proud Connacht clan, Cannon serves through Britain's plan.
[Bm] Mines is [Dm] humanity's demand, The [A] [D] spawn of trusty slave.
No strangers are these boats and locks, No new designs these dark-aged blocks.
[Bm] Black from welders, [D] while mason stocks, The booty taunts the brave.
I wear no [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G] [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
Is Britain need a thousand years, Of protest, riots, death, and tears?
[Bm] Or will this past [D] decade of years, Of eighty decades swell?
An end to Ireland's agony, Behold first human dignity.
[Bm] And will the last [D]
obscenity, Be this grim -haged block's end?
I wear no [Gm] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, [G] round [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
[N]
I am a proud young Irishman, In Ulster's hills my life began.
[Bm] A happy boy through [D] griefy dread, I kept God's and man's love.
And when my age was barely ten, My country's rungs were tolled again.
By [Bm] tens of thousands [Dm]
marching men, My heart stood to [A] the [D] call.
I wear no [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G]
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
I learned of centuries of strife, Of cruel love, injustice, and rife.
And I saw now in my own young life, The fruit's foreign sway.
The testers threatened, tortured, maimed, The vision nurtured, passions flamed.
How rape evokes, rights caused to faint, This is conqueror's way.
I wear no
[G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G]
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
The sentence of proud Connacht clan, Cannon serves through Britain's plan.
[Bm] Mines is [Dm] humanity's demand, The [A] [D] spawn of trusty slave.
No strangers are these boats and locks, No new designs these dark-aged blocks.
[Bm] Black from welders, [D] while mason stocks, The booty taunts the brave.
I wear no [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, round [G] [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
Is Britain need a thousand years, Of protest, riots, death, and tears?
[Bm] Or will this past [D] decade of years, Of eighty decades swell?
An end to Ireland's agony, Behold first human dignity.
[Bm] And will the last [D]
obscenity, Be this grim -haged block's end?
I wear no [Gm] conviction of [D] farm, Nor meekly serve my time.
At Britain mine, [G] round [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred years of prime.
[N]
100% ➙ 135BPM
D
G
Bm
Dm
A
D
G
Bm
[D] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ I _ am a proud young _ _ _ Irishman, In _ Ulster's hills my _ life began.
[Bm] A happy _ _ boy through [D] _ _ griefy dread, I kept God's and man's love. _
_ And _ _ when my age was barely ten, _ My _ country's rungs were _ tolled again.
By [Bm] tens of thousands _ [Dm] _ _
marching men, My heart stood to [A] the [D] call. _
I _ wear no _ [G] conviction _ of [D] farm, _ Nor _ meekly serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ _ mine, round [G] _ _
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred _ _ years of prime.
_ I _ _ _ learned of _ centuries _ of strife, Of _ cruel love, _ _ injustice, and rife.
And I saw _ now in my own young _ life, The _ fruit's _ foreign sway.
_ _ _ The _ _ testers threatened, _ _ _ tortured, _ maimed, The vision _ _ _ nurtured, _ passions _ flamed.
How _ _ rape evokes, rights _ caused to faint, This _ is _ _ conqueror's way.
_ I wear _ no _
_ [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor _ _ meekly serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ _ mine, round [G] _
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight _ hundred _ _ years of prime. _ _
The _ sentence _ of proud _ Connacht clan, _ Cannon _ serves through _ _ Britain's plan.
[Bm] Mines _ is _ _ [Dm] _ _ _ humanity's demand, The [A] _ [D] spawn of _ trusty slave.
_ _ _ No _ strangers _ are these boats and locks, No new _ designs these dark-aged blocks.
[Bm] Black from _ _ welders, [D] while _ mason stocks, _ The booty _ _ taunts the brave.
_ _ _ I wear no _ [G] conviction _ of [D] farm, _ Nor _ meekly serve my _ time. _ _
At _ Britain mine, round [G] _ _ [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred _ _ years of prime.
Is _ _ _ Britain need a thousand _ years, Of protest, _ _ riots, _ death, and tears?
[Bm] Or will _ this past _ [D] decade of years, Of eighty _ _ _ decades swell? _ _
An _ _ end to _ Ireland's _ _ agony, _ _ _ Behold first _ human _ _ _ dignity.
_ [Bm] And will _ the last _ [D] _ _ _ _
obscenity, Be this grim _ -haged block's end?
_ _ I _ wear no _ [Gm] conviction _ of [D] farm, Nor _ meekly _ serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ mine, [G] round _ [D] Ireland's mine, _ Eight hundred _ _ _ _ years of prime. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ I _ am a proud young _ _ _ Irishman, In _ Ulster's hills my _ life began.
[Bm] A happy _ _ boy through [D] _ _ griefy dread, I kept God's and man's love. _
_ And _ _ when my age was barely ten, _ My _ country's rungs were _ tolled again.
By [Bm] tens of thousands _ [Dm] _ _
marching men, My heart stood to [A] the [D] call. _
I _ wear no _ [G] conviction _ of [D] farm, _ Nor _ meekly serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ _ mine, round [G] _ _
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred _ _ years of prime.
_ I _ _ _ learned of _ centuries _ of strife, Of _ cruel love, _ _ injustice, and rife.
And I saw _ now in my own young _ life, The _ fruit's _ foreign sway.
_ _ _ The _ _ testers threatened, _ _ _ tortured, _ maimed, The vision _ _ _ nurtured, _ passions _ flamed.
How _ _ rape evokes, rights _ caused to faint, This _ is _ _ conqueror's way.
_ I wear _ no _
_ [G] conviction of [D] farm, Nor _ _ meekly serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ _ mine, round [G] _
[D] Ireland's mine, Eight _ hundred _ _ years of prime. _ _
The _ sentence _ of proud _ Connacht clan, _ Cannon _ serves through _ _ Britain's plan.
[Bm] Mines _ is _ _ [Dm] _ _ _ humanity's demand, The [A] _ [D] spawn of _ trusty slave.
_ _ _ No _ strangers _ are these boats and locks, No new _ designs these dark-aged blocks.
[Bm] Black from _ _ welders, [D] while _ mason stocks, _ The booty _ _ taunts the brave.
_ _ _ I wear no _ [G] conviction _ of [D] farm, _ Nor _ meekly serve my _ time. _ _
At _ Britain mine, round [G] _ _ [D] Ireland's mine, Eight hundred _ _ years of prime.
Is _ _ _ Britain need a thousand _ years, Of protest, _ _ riots, _ death, and tears?
[Bm] Or will _ this past _ [D] decade of years, Of eighty _ _ _ decades swell? _ _
An _ _ end to _ Ireland's _ _ agony, _ _ _ Behold first _ human _ _ _ dignity.
_ [Bm] And will _ the last _ [D] _ _ _ _
obscenity, Be this grim _ -haged block's end?
_ _ I _ wear no _ [Gm] conviction _ of [D] farm, Nor _ meekly _ serve my _ _ time.
_ At Britain _ mine, [G] round _ [D] Ireland's mine, _ Eight hundred _ _ _ _ years of prime. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _ _