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Roddy McCorley  The Dubliners

Verse 1: Oh See the host of [C]fleet foot men who sped with faces w[F]an.[C]
From farmstedt and from f[F]ishers [C]cot al[Am]ong the b[Dm]anks of B[G7]ann.
They [C]come with [Em]vengence [F]in their [C]eyes, too l[Am]ate, too l[Dm]ate are t[G7]hey,
For young R[C]oddy McCorly goes to die on the b[Am]ridge of T[F]oome to[C]day.
Verse 2: When the last stepped up the stret, his shining pike in hand.
Behind him marched in grim array a stalwart earnest band.
For Antrim town, for Antrim town, he led them to the fray,
And young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
Verse 3: Up the narrows streets he steps, smiling proud and young.
About the hemp rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung.
There was never a tear in his blue eyes, both sad and bright are they,
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

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