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Folk Song

X:1 T:The Minstrel Boy C:Trad T:The Moreen O:Ireland R:March Z:Webmaster M:4/4 L:1/8 K:G D2 |: G3A cBAG | B2d2 g2fg | e2d2 BcdB |1 A4 G2 D2:|2 A4G2d2| g2f2 e2fg | f2e2 d3^d | e3B B2^d2 | e3f gfed| G3A cBAG | B2d2 g2fg | e2d2 BcdB |1 A4 G2 d2:|2 A4 G2 D2| % W:The minstrel boy to the war has gone, W:In the ranks of death you'll find him. W:His father's sword he had girded on. W:And his wild harp slung behind him. W:Land of song, said the warrior bard, W:Though all the world betrays thee, W:One sword at least thy rights shall guard, W:One faithful harp shall praise thee." W: W:The minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain W:Could not bring his proud soul under. W:The harp he loved never spoke again W:For he tore its cords asunder, W:And said "No chains shall sully thee, W:Thou soul of love and bravery, W:Thy songs were made for the pure and free, W:They shall never sound in slavery" % % % % %

					
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