Ireland United Gaelic And Free Lyrics And Chords
Recorded by The Irish Brigade and by Ray McAreavey and Wolfehound.
In [G] Armagh and in Derry, in [C] Antrim and in [G] Down,
the [C] north gale is [G] rising to [A7] bring down the [D7] crown.
Then [G] shout the old war cry, and the [C] blood's running [G] high.
We'll [C] fight for true [G] Ireland, for [A7] today we shall [D7] die.
The [G] days of the slavers will no [C] longer[G] be
When [C] Gaels stand [G] united, they'll [A7] always be [D7] free.
[chorus]
[C] Ire[D]land [G] united, [D] Gaelic and [Am] free.
[C] Land [D] of my [G] birth, in [D] freedom we'll [Am] be.
From New York and Chicago, in Sydney and in Perth
The Gaelic storm is growing; it's sweeping across the earth,
We'll serve no queen or cremlin, in freedom we shall dwell.
If they try to step in England's shoes, we'll see them all in hell.
There's no force on this earth can ever stand the tide
Of a nation united, the truth on its side.
The banshee's mournful whisper of an old lost battle scene,
A true Gael's blood is calling, "Preserve our ancient green,"
Is there any mind so shallow, is there any heart so black,
Can watch his county's body tore apart on England's rack?
Remember now in Belfast, brave men will fight and die,
To keep that shining vision alive and burning high.
the [C] north gale is [G] rising to [A7] bring down the [D7] crown.
Then [G] shout the old war cry, and the [C] blood's running [G] high.
We'll [C] fight for true [G] Ireland, for [A7] today we shall [D7] die.
The [G] days of the slavers will no [C] longer[G] be
When [C] Gaels stand [G] united, they'll [A7] always be [D7] free.
[chorus]
[C] Ire[D]land [G] united, [D] Gaelic and [Am] free.
[C] Land [D] of my [G] birth, in [D] freedom we'll [Am] be.
From New York and Chicago, in Sydney and in Perth
The Gaelic storm is growing; it's sweeping across the earth,
We'll serve no queen or cremlin, in freedom we shall dwell.
If they try to step in England's shoes, we'll see them all in hell.
There's no force on this earth can ever stand the tide
Of a nation united, the truth on its side.
The banshee's mournful whisper of an old lost battle scene,
A true Gael's blood is calling, "Preserve our ancient green,"
Is there any mind so shallow, is there any heart so black,
Can watch his county's body tore apart on England's rack?
Remember now in Belfast, brave men will fight and die,
To keep that shining vision alive and burning high.
