[D]Oh! My boat can safely[D7] float in the[G] teeth of wind and[D] weather
And[D] outrace the fastest[Bm] hooker between[Em]
Galway and Kin[A]sale;
When the[D] black floor of the[Bm] ocean and the[G] white foam rush to[D]gether,
High she[G]
rides, in her[Bm] pride, like a [G]sea-gull through the[D] gale.
cho:[D] Oh she's neat! Oh she's sweet! She's a[A7] beauty in ev'ry[D] line!
The[A] Queen of Conne[D]mara is that[Bm]
bounding[A] barque of [D]mine.
When she's loaded down with fish till the water lips the gunwale,
Not a drop she'll take on board her that would wash
a fly away;
From the fleet she'll slip out swiftly like a greyhound from her kennel,
And she'll land her silver store
the first at ould Kinvara quay.
There's a light shines out afar, and it keeps me from dismaying
When the skies are ink above us and the sea runs white
with foam,
In a cot in Connemara there's a wife and wee one praying
To the One who walked the waters once, to send us
safely home.
