The Old Bog Road chords by The Irish Tenors

• Capo on 1st
• Difficulty: Intermediate

Key: Bb

🎸 Intro:

A    A7    D    Bm
F#m  G#m  A  C#m  B7




🎸 Verse 1:
   A        F#m           A         A       E
My feet are here on Broad-way, this blessed har-vest morn
D                      A            F#m        E7    A
But oh! the ache that's in them for the spot where I was born!
   A      E              A          A       E
My wea-ry hands are blis-tered from work in cold and heat
D                    A            F#m       E7      A
And oh! to swing a scythe to-day thro' fields of I-Rish wheat!

🎸 Chorus:
    A     D             F#m          D     Bm       E     E7
Had I the chance to wan-der back, or own a king's a-bode
A        A7      D         Bm          E   E7  A
'Tis soon I'd see the haw-thorn tree by the Old Bog Road!

🎸 Verse 2:
   A      F#m       A               A         E
My Mother died last springtime when Ireland's fields were green.
    D                      A           F#m    E7   A
The neighbors said her wak-ing was the finest ever seen:
           A         F#m      A           A     E
There were snowdrops and prim-roses piled up be-side her beir
D                         A           F#m     E7       A
And Ferran's Church was crowd-ed when her funeral Mass was said.

🎸 Chorus:
    A        D          F#m      D      Bm     E     E7
But here was I on Broad-way, and bitter was my load
          A       A7      D       Bm      E   E7  A
When they carried out her coffin down the Old Bog Road!

🎸 Verse 3:
     A     F#m       A           A        E
When I was young and innocent my mind was ill at ease
        D               A        F#m     E7       A
Through dreaming of Ame-rica and gold be-yond the seas.
     A     F#m            A        A       E
Och! sorra take their mon-ey, 'tis hard to get and save
D                      A          F#m    E7         A
And what's the worth to an-y man when no one speaks his name?

🎸 Chorus:
     A      D             F#m       D      Bm    E     E7
I've had my day, and here I am, and bitter is my load
A          A7       D       Bm           E   E7  A
A long three thousand miles a-way from the Old Bog Road.

🎸 Verse 4:
     A        F#m   A            A       E
Och! Life's a weary puzzle, past finding out by man
D                     A              F#m    E7     A
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can.
      A      F#m     A                 A       E
Since no one cares a rush for me, what need to make a moan?
  D                  A          F#m      E7     A
I go my way and draw my pay and smoke my pipe a-lone.

🎸 Chorus:
     A     D               F#m               D      Bm     E     E7
Each human heart must know its grief, though little be its load
A      A7       D   Bm            E   E7  A
So God be with old Ire-land, and the Old Bog Road!

Coda:
   A      A7       D   Bm            E   E7  A
  God be with old Ire-land, and the Old Bog Road!