Tonart: A major
Verse 1
G
If you'll listen, I'll sing you a sweet little song,
Of a flower that's now drooped and dead,
Yet dearer to me, yes, than all of its mates,
D
Tho' each holds aloft its proud
head.
'Twas given to me by a girl that I know,
Since we've met, faith,
She is dearer by far than the
Abdim
world's brightest star,
And I call her my wild Irish Rose.
C
D
G
The sweetest flower that grows,
Abdim
D
G
You may search everywhere,
Abdim
D
G
But none can compare
A
F#
Eb
D
With my wild Irish Rose.
G
D
G
Abdim
My wild Irish Rose,
G
C
D
G
Abdim
The dearest flower that grows,
D
G
And some day for my sake,
Abdim
D
G
She may let me take
A
D
Eb
D
The bloom from my wild Ir ish
G
Abdim
Rose.
Verse 2
Eb
They may sing of their roses which,
by other names,
Would smell just as sweetly, they say,
Ab
Eb
Ab
But I know that my Rose
would never consent
C#
To have that sweet name taken away.
Eb
Her glances are shy when e'er I
Ab
Adim
F
Eb
Ab
Adim
pass by
The bower,
Eb
where my true love grows;
And my one wish has been that
Ab
Bb
Eb
E
Eb
Ab
some day I may win
A
D
G
The heart of my wild Irish Rose.
D
G
E
My wild Irish Rose,
G
C
D
G
The sweetest flower that grows,
Abdim
D
G
You may search everywhere,
Abdim
D
G
But none can compare
A
C#dim
D
With my wild Irish Rose.
G
D
G
Abdim
My wild Irish Rose,
G
C
D
G
Abdim
The dearest flower that grows,
D
G
And some day for my sake,
Abdim
D
G
She may let me take
A
D
Eb
D
The bloom from my wild Ir ish Rose.
Outro 1
G
Eb
G
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteG D Abdim C A...
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