Sweet William, Part 2 Johnny Flynn
This is my first time doing this, and I did it as accurately as I could, by ear.
Hopefully it works. Enjoy!
Capo on the 7th
[Am]Will you put down your fiddle young Willie
Will you put down your fiddle and p[F]ray
That the wo[C]rld has be[F]gun with the bi[C]rth of the [F]sun
And its d[Am]eath the very same day
'Now k[Am]iss me young lover,' cried Ma[Em]ggie the glover
'We're a vi[F]llage of babes and I'm o[C]ver the m[G]oon"
[Am]'Where's all your fellas, those yo[Em]ung buck propellers,'
Cried Wi[F]llie who swam in the ro[C]om full of sw[G]oon
Will you put down your fiddle young Willie
Will you put down your fiddle and pray
That the world has begun with the birth of the sun
And its death the very same day
[C]Still the fiddle br[G]ightly s[Am]ung, its ho[F]rnpi[C]pe pla[G]ying
It's a Lond[C]onderry t[Am]une, long go[C]ne's the aft[F]ernoon
We'll sing 'e[C]ver and m[F]ore and e[C]ver will [Am]be'
The old men he'd seen, all cracked teeth with glee
Brought gold for the boy who could carry all time
For they in dear guardianship sailing and broken
Ship wizened and aged in pursuit of the wine
'It's not what I came for,' cried Will with disdain for
The din and the clamour of faucets undone
'Til a glimpse of perfection in Sally's reflection
In a mirror that carried her light like the sun
Will you put down your fiddle young Willie
Will you put down your fiddle and pray (right now)
That the world has begun with the birth of the sun
And its death the very same day
With Will in the midst and no heat to desist
The gentrified stock who had seen off them all
And laughed at the lad seeing all that he had
And whispered their praise to the soul of his sword
If Will had known better, he'd not have known better
And history's song would have ended with time
So it's lucky for learning that history's yearning
Is not in repeating but for something that rhymes
Will you pick up your fiddle young Willie (pick it up)
Will you pick up your fiddle and play
For the world has begun with the birth of the sun
And its death the very same day
Still the fiddle brightly sung, its hornpipe playing
It's a Londonderry tune, long gone's the afternoon
We'll sing 'ever and more and ever will be'
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