Intro: F C Am G G C F G C
Verse 1:
F C Am G
Last Saturday morning, our horns they did blow
C Am G C
To the green fields of Tassen, where the huntsmen did go
F C F C G
For to meet the bold sportsmen from round Keady Town
F Am Fmaj7 G
And none love the sport better than the boys from Maydown
Verse 2:
F C Am G
Oh, and when we arrived, they were all standing there
C Am G C
So we took to the green fields, in search of a hare
F C F C G
We hadn't gone far when someone gave a cheer
F Am Fmaj7 G
Over hills and high meadows the puss she did steer.
Verse 3:
F C Am G
When she got to the heather she tried them to shun
C Am G C
But the dogs never missed, one inch where she'd run
F C F C G
They kept well packed when going over the hill
F Am Fmaj7 G
For the hounds had set out the sweet hare for to kill
Verse 4:
F C Am G
With our dogs all abreast and the big mountain hare
C Am G C
And the sweet charming music it rang through the air
F C F C G
Straight for the Black Bank for to try them once more
F Am Fmaj7 G
But it was her last sight round the hills of Granemore
Verse 5:
F C Am G
Oh, and as we trailed on to where the hare she did lie
C Am G C
She sprang to her feet for to bid them goodbye
F C F C G
Well, their music did cease and the cry we could hear
F Am Fmaj7 G
Saying cursed be the ones, brought you Maydown dogs here
Instrumental:
F C Am G G C F G C
F C F C G F C G C
Verse 6:
F C Am G
Last night as I lay quite content in the glen
C Am G C
It was little I thought then of dogs or of men
F C F C G
But when going home at the clear break of day
F Am Fmaj7 G
I could hear the long dogs round Young Tornerdon Bay
Verse 7:
F C Am G
And it being so early, I stopped for a while,
C Am G C
It was little I thought they were going to meet Coyle
F C F C G
If I had known that I'd have lain near the town
F Am Fmaj7 G
Or tried to get clear of those dogs from May Down
Verse 8:
F C Am G
And now that I'm dying and the sport is all done
C Am G C
No more through the green fields of Keady I'll run
F C F C G
Nor feed in the glen on a cold winter's night
F Am Fmaj7 G
Or go home to my den when it's breaking day light
Verse 9:
F C Am G
A curse on McMahon for bringing Coyle here
C Am G C
He's been at the same caper for many's a year
F C F C G
From Friday to Sunday, he'd never give o'er
F Am Fmaj7 G
With a pack of strange dogs 'round the hills of Granemore
Outro: F C Am G G C F G C x2