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McIlhatton [G]Christy Moore

Intro  G A G A

GIn Glenravel’s Glen thereA lives a man whom Gsome would call a Agod
For he could Gcure your shakes with aA bottle of his stuff would Gcost you thirty Dbob
Come Gwinter, summer, Afrost all over, a Gjiggin’ Spring on the Abreeze
In the Ddead of night a Gman steps by, “DMcIlhatton, if you Aplease”

CHORUS

DMcIlhatton you blurt we Cneed you, cry a Gmillion shaking Dmen
DWhere are your sacks of Gbarley, will your Dlikes be seen Cagain?
DHeres a jig to the man and a Greel to the drop and a Dswing to the girl he Gloves
May your Dfiddle play and Apoitín cure your Gcompany up Aabove

Theres a Gwisp of smoke to the Asouth of the Glen and the Gpoitín is on the Aair
The Gbirds in the burrows and the Arabbits in the sky and there’s Gdrunkards every-Dwhere
At GSkerries Rock the Afox is out and be-Ggod he’s chasing the Ahounds
And the Donly thing in Gdecent shape is Dburied beneath the Aground

CHORUS

GAt McIlhatton’s house the Afairies are out and Gdancing on the Ahobs
The Ggoat’s collapsed and the Adog has run away and there’s Gsalmon down the Dbogs
He Ghas a million Agallons of wash and the Gpeelers are on the AGlen
But they’ll Dnever catch that Ghackler cos he’s Dnot comin’ home Aagain

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