The Black Matilda Chords

Standard (EADGBE)

Verse

 By the wCindy shores o' Canada bay I brGoke my fast for Lucia's day,

AmA beguiling figure she blew my away & rattled me rovin' heart,

 The snCipers crack, the metronome of prGicy heels on polished stone,

 That AmI were soon to call my own by way o' the ancient art.

Verse

 I were Ccozened by a whiff-o-the-whim that scGours the Costa harryin',

 The liAmkes o' men who've lost the lamp, the rudderless and bewildered,

 The sanCds below are littered wi'bones o'tGhose whove taken a belly o'stones,

 And tuAmrned their backs on wives & homes to follow the black Matilda.

Chorus

GHo-ro m'lovelies cross yer Amhearts & hope to die,

AmIf e'er ye're drawn beneath a murky faGthom of her eye,

GHo-ro m'lovelies kiss yer aAmrse a fond goodbye,

AmYe'll never again be able to lift yer hGead so bloody high.

 For even the bCoys of Inverary know, from TGortuga to Jericho,

 She Amtook three hundred souls below off the deck o' the Andalusia,

 The pCoets and the Sages tried to wGarn us down the ages,

 Their bAmlood drips from the pages where they tell o' the Black Matilda.

Verse

 She puCrsed her lips & spun a tune as fGine as any silk cocoon,

 That's eAmver left McEacherns loom & held me there in a tawper,

 A baCstard I was born y'ken? I liGved as tho' I'd never end,

 I'll dAmie a disenchanted man, they'll bury me as a pauper,

Verse

 For meCn have drowned & men have swung, the brGig at Iron Cove were hung,

 Wi' a Amgarland of the old, the young, all battered & unfamiliar,

 ThCere's no poetry theres no tune, no pGoint in howlin' at the moon,

 A cAmaution to ye very soon ye'll waltz yer Black Matilda.

Chorus

GHo-ro m'lovelies cross yer Amhearts & hope to die,

AmIf e'er ye're drawn beneath a murky fatGhom of her eye,

GHo-ro m'lovelies kiss yer aAmrse a fond goodbye,

AmYe'll never again be able to lift yer hGead so bloody high.

 For even the bCoys of Inverary know, from TGortuga to Jericho,

 She Amtook three hundred souls below off the deck o' the Andalusia,

 The pCoets and the Sages tried to wGarn us down the ages,

 Their bAmlood drips from the pages where they tell o' the Black Matilda.

Verse

 By the wCindy shores o Canada bay I broGke my fast for Lucia's day,

AmA beguiling figure she blew my away & rattled me rovin' heart,

 The snCipers crack, the metronome of prGicy heels on polished stone,

 That AmI were soon to call my own by way o' the ancient art.

Chorus

CHo-Ro m'lovelies, cross yer hGearts & hope to die,

 Its eAmnough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

CHo-Ro m'lovelies, kiss yer arGse a fond goodbye,

 Its eAmnough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

CHo-Ro m'lovelies, cross yer hGearts & hope to die,

 Its eAmnough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

CHo-Ro m'lovelies, kiss yer arGse a fond goodbye,

 It's Amenough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

 EnougAmh to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

Enough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry,

Enough to make ye cry, enough to make ye die,