The chords to The Old Bog Road are presented in the key of G. The lyrics are about an emigrant who is living in America and reminiscing about Ireland.
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[chordsandlyrics][G]My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest [D]morn
But [C]O the ache that’s [G]in them for the [D]spot where I was [G]born
My weary hands are blistered from work in cold and [D]heat
And [C]O to swing a [G]scythe today through [D]fields of Irish [G]wheat
Had [C]I the chance to [Em]wander back or [Am]own a king’s [D]abode
[D7]‘Tis [G]soon I see the [C]hawthorn [Am]tree by the [D]old [D7]bog [G]road[/chordsandlyrics]
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My mother died last springtime when Ireland’s fields were green
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen
There were snowdrops and primroses piled up beside her bed
And Ferrans Church was crowded when the funeral mass was said
But here was I on Broadway and bitter was my load
When they carried out her coffin down the Old Bog Road
When I was young and innocent my mind was ill at ease
Through dreaming of America and gold beyond the seas
Och, sorra take their money ‘tis hard to get that same
And what’s the world to any man when no one speaks his name
I’ve had my day and here I am and bitter is my load
A long three thousand miles away from the Old Bog Road
There was a decent girl at home who used to walk with me
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful like moonbeams on the sea
Her name was Mary Dwyer – that was long ago
And the ways of God are wiser than the things a man may know
She died the year I left her and bitter was my load
I’d best forget the times we met on the Old Bog Road
Och, life’s a weary puzzle past finding out by man
I take the day for what it’s worth and do the best I can
Since no one cares a rush for me what need to make a moan
I go my way and draw my pay and smoke my pipe alone
Each human heart must know its grief though little be its load
So God be with old Ireland and the3 Old Bog Road
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Lyrics and Chords
The Old Bog Road lyrics and chords print version
[G]My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest [D]morn
But [C]O the ache that’s [G]in them for the [D]spot where I was [G]born
My weary hands are blistered from work in cold and [D]heat
And [C]O to swing a [G]scythe today through [D]fields of Irish [G]wheat
Had [C]I the chance to [Em]wander back or [Am]own a king’s [D]abode
[D7]‘Tis [G]soon I see the [C]hawthorn [Am]tree by the [D]old [D7]bog [G]road
My mother died last springtime when Ireland’s fields were green
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen
There were snowdrops and primroses piled up beside her bed
And Ferrans Church was crowded when the funeral mass was said
But here was I on Broadway and bitter was my load
When they carried out her coffin down the Old Bog Road
When I was young and innocent my mind was ill at ease
Through dreaming of America and gold beyond the seas
Och, sorra take their money ‘tis hard to get that same
And what’s the world to any man when no one speaks his name
I’ve had my day and here I am and bitter is my load
A long three thousand miles away from the Old Bog Road
There was a decent girl at home who used to walk with me
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful like moonbeams on the sea
Her name was Mary Dwyer – that was long ago
And the ways of God are wiser than the things a man may know
She died the year I left her and bitter was my load
I’d best forget the times we met on the Old Bog Road
Och, life’s a weary puzzle past finding out by man
I take the day for what it’s worth and do the best I can
Since no one cares a rush for me what need to make a moan
I go my way and draw my pay and smoke my pipe alone
Each human heart must know its grief though little be its load
So God be with old Ireland and the3 Old Bog Road
Videos
Lyrics and Chords
