Smith Of Bristol The Dubliners lyrics and chords
A traditional English folk song, the guitar chords by Marc Fahrbach Ronnie Drew was on vocals. To play along with The Dubliners version of the song use the guitar chords given in the key of D Major.
[D]Smith was a Bristol man and a rare old sort was he
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
With a noble crew of cut-throats he used to scour the sea
A'[G]plundering and a'[A]robbing high and [D]low
He [A]swore 'twas no concern, he did not give a herrin'
About right or wrong or any holy [D]show
He swore that grabbing [G]booty was [D]Britain's foremost [G]duty
Wher[D]ever she could [A]get it, heave-ye-[D]ho
Chorus
Heave-ye-[A]ho, heave-ye-[D]ho
He swore that grabbing [G]booty was [D]Britain's foremost [G]duty
Wher[D]ever she could [A]get it, heave-ye-[D]ho
For [D]Smith had a noble soul and lofty was his pride
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
He'd watch his beaten foe-men jump out into the tide
Call you [G]beggars who had [A]nowhere else to [D]go
And [A]hanging from his lanyards were Portuguese and Spaniards
And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and [D]fro
Right along the blazing [G]story shown [D]allure in England's [G]glory
[D]Pirate Smith of [A]Bristol, heave-ye-[D]ho
Chorus
But [D]accidents will happen even to heroes such as he
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
He was standing at his capstan as happy as could be
Hoping [G]soon to have a[A]nother prize in [D]tow
When a [A]whistling Spanish bullet came and caught him in the gullet
And very sad to say, laid him [D]low
He was only ninety-[G]seven but his [D]soul had gone to [G]heaven
To [D]rest on Nelson's [A]bosom, heave-ye-[D]ho
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
With a noble crew of cut-throats he used to scour the sea
A'[G]plundering and a'[A]robbing high and [D]low
He [A]swore 'twas no concern, he did not give a herrin'
About right or wrong or any holy [D]show
He swore that grabbing [G]booty was [D]Britain's foremost [G]duty
Wher[D]ever she could [A]get it, heave-ye-[D]ho
Chorus
Heave-ye-[A]ho, heave-ye-[D]ho
He swore that grabbing [G]booty was [D]Britain's foremost [G]duty
Wher[D]ever she could [A]get it, heave-ye-[D]ho
For [D]Smith had a noble soul and lofty was his pride
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
He'd watch his beaten foe-men jump out into the tide
Call you [G]beggars who had [A]nowhere else to [D]go
And [A]hanging from his lanyards were Portuguese and Spaniards
And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and [D]fro
Right along the blazing [G]story shown [D]allure in England's [G]glory
[D]Pirate Smith of [A]Bristol, heave-ye-[D]ho
Chorus
But [D]accidents will happen even to heroes such as he
With his [G]cutlass and his [A]pistols, heave-ye-[D]ho
He was standing at his capstan as happy as could be
Hoping [G]soon to have a[A]nother prize in [D]tow
When a [A]whistling Spanish bullet came and caught him in the gullet
And very sad to say, laid him [D]low
He was only ninety-[G]seven but his [D]soul had gone to [G]heaven
To [D]rest on Nelson's [A]bosom, heave-ye-[D]ho
Return to The Dubliners Songs
Guitar chords in the key of G
[G]Smith was a Bristol man and a rare old sort was he
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
With a noble crew of cut-throats he used to scour the sea
A'[C]plundering and a'[D]robbing high and [G]low
He [D]swore 'twas no concern, he did not give a herrin'
About right or wrong or any holy [G]show
He swore that grabbing [C]booty was [G]Britain's foremost [C]duty
Wher[G]ever she could [D]get it, heave-ye-[G]ho
Chorus
Heave-ye-[D]ho, heave-ye-[G]ho
He swore that grabbing [C]booty was [G]Britain's foremost [C]duty
Wher[G]ever she could [D]get it, heave-ye-[G]ho
For [G]Smith had a noble soul and lofty was his pride
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
He'd watch his beaten foe-men jump out into the tide
Call you [C]beggars who had [D]nowhere else to [G]go
And [D]hanging from his lanyards were Portuguese and Spaniards
And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and [G]fro
Right along the blazing [C]story shown [G]allure in England's [C]glory
[G]Pirate Smith of [D]Bristol, heave-ye-[G]ho
Chorus
But [G]accidents will happen even to heroes such as he
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
He was standing at his capstan as happy as could be
Hoping [C]soon to have a[D]nother prize in [G]tow
When a [D]whistling Spanish bullet came and caught him in the gullet
And very sad to say, laid him [G]low
He was only ninety-[C]seven but his [G]soul had gone to [C]heaven
To [G]rest on Nelson's [D]bosom, heave-ye-[G]h
[G]Smith was a Bristol man and a rare old sort was he
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
With a noble crew of cut-throats he used to scour the sea
A'[C]plundering and a'[D]robbing high and [G]low
He [D]swore 'twas no concern, he did not give a herrin'
About right or wrong or any holy [G]show
He swore that grabbing [C]booty was [G]Britain's foremost [C]duty
Wher[G]ever she could [D]get it, heave-ye-[G]ho
Chorus
Heave-ye-[D]ho, heave-ye-[G]ho
He swore that grabbing [C]booty was [G]Britain's foremost [C]duty
Wher[G]ever she could [D]get it, heave-ye-[G]ho
For [G]Smith had a noble soul and lofty was his pride
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
He'd watch his beaten foe-men jump out into the tide
Call you [C]beggars who had [D]nowhere else to [G]go
And [D]hanging from his lanyards were Portuguese and Spaniards
And beaten Frenchmen jumping to and [G]fro
Right along the blazing [C]story shown [G]allure in England's [C]glory
[G]Pirate Smith of [D]Bristol, heave-ye-[G]ho
Chorus
But [G]accidents will happen even to heroes such as he
With his [C]cutlass and his [D]pistols, heave-ye-[G]ho
He was standing at his capstan as happy as could be
Hoping [C]soon to have a[D]nother prize in [G]tow
When a [D]whistling Spanish bullet came and caught him in the gullet
And very sad to say, laid him [G]low
He was only ninety-[C]seven but his [G]soul had gone to [C]heaven
To [G]rest on Nelson's [D]bosom, heave-ye-[G]h
