Streets of New York The Wolfe Tones
Lyrics and guitar chords
G
Am
G
C
G
D
C
Am
G
G
I was eighteen years Am
old when I G
went down to C
DublinWith a
G
fistful of Em
money and a Am
cartload of D
dreams."Take you
G
r time," said me Am
father, "stop G
rushing like C
hell,And r
G
emember all's Em
not what it sD
eems to bG
e.For there's
D
fellas who'd Em
cut you for the C
coat on your G
back,Or that
C
watch that you Em
got from your D
mother.So take
G
care, me young Am
bucko, and G
mind yourself C
well.And would you
G
give this wee D
note to me G
brother." C
G
At the
D
time, Uncle Benjy was a C
policeman in G
Brooklyn,And me
D
father, the youngest, looked C
after the D
farm.Til a
G
phone call from Am
America said "G
Send the lad C
over."And the
G
old fellaEm
said, "Sure, t'wouldn'tD
do anyG
harm.C
G
For I've
C
spent me life D
working this G
dirty old groundFor a
C
few pints of poD
rter and the sG
mell of a pound.And sure, ma
G
ybe there's Am
something you'll G
learn or you'll C
see,And you can
G
bring it back Em
home, make it D
easier on mG
e.C
" G
D
G
So, I landed at Am
Kennedy, and a G
big yellow C
taxiCarried
G
me and me Em
bags through the Am
streets and the D
rain.Well, my
G
poor heart was Am
thumping aG
round with C
excitement,And I
G
hardly even Em
heard what the dD
river was sG
aying.C
G
We came
D
in the Shore Em
Parkway through the C
flatlands in G
Brooklyn,To me
C
uncle's aEm
partment on D
East 53rd.I was
G
feeling so Am
happy, I was G
humming a C
song,And I
G
sang "You're as D
free as a G
bird." C
G
Well, to
D
shorten the story, what I C
found out that G
dayWas that
D
Benjy got shot down in an C
uptown foD
ray.And
G
while I was Am
flying my G
way to New C
York,Poor
G
Benjy was Em
lying in a D
cold city G
morgue.Well, I called
C
up my old fella, D
told him the G
news.I could
C
tell he could hardly stand D
up in his G
shoes.And he
G
wept as he Am
told me go aG
head with the C
plan,And
G
not to fEm
orget, be a D
proud Irish G
man.C
G
E
So, I
A
went up to Bm
Nellie's beC#m
side Fordham D
Road,And I
A
started to F#m
learn about Bm
lifting the E
load.But the
A
heaviest Bm
thing that I C#m
carried that D
yearWas the
A
bittersweet F#m
thoughts of my E
hometown so A
dear.I went
E
home that F#m
December cause my D
old fella A
died.I had to
D
borrow the F#m
money from E
Phil on the side.And
A
all the bright Bm
flowers and C#m
brass couldn't D
hideThe
A
poor, wasted E
face of me A
father.I sold
E
up the old D
farmyard for A
what it was worth,And i
E
nto my bag stuck a D
handful of E
earth.Then I
A
boarded a Bm
train and I C#m
caught me a D
plane,And I
A
found myself F#m
back in the E
U.S. A
again.It's been
D
twenty-two E
years since I A
set foot in Dublin.My
D
kids know to E
use the A
correct knife and fork.But I'll
A
never Bm
forget the green C#m
grass and the D
rivers,As I
A
keep law and F#m
order in the E
streets of New A
YoD
rkA
E
A
Na,na,na Bm
na,na,na, C#m
na,na,na,na,D
na,na,na,Na,
A
na, na,na,F#m
na, na,na,nBm
a,na,na,E
na.A
Na,na,na Bm
na,na,na, C#m
na,na,na,na,D
na,na,na,Na,
A
na, na,na,F#m
na, na,na,nE
a,na,na,nA
a.
contributions:
Information about the Song
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