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\selectlanguage{english}
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\songcolumns{2}
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\beginsong{Star of The County Down}[by=Traditional]
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\lilypond{star_of_the_county_down}
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\beginverse
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In \[Dm]Banbridge Town in the \[F]County \[C]Down
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One \[Dm]morning last \[C]July,
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From a \[Dm]boreen green came a \[F]sweet \[C]colleen
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And she \[Dm]smiled as she passed \[C]me \[Dm]by.
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She \[F]looked so sweet from her \[C]two bare feet
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To the \[Dm]sheen of her nut brown \[C]hair.
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Such a \[Dm]coaxing elf, sure I \[F]shook \[C]myself
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For to \[Dm]see I was \[C]really \[Dm]there.
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\endverse
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\beginchorus
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From \[F]Bantry Bay up to \[C]Derry Quay and
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From \[Dm]Galway to Dublin \[C]Town,
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No \[Dm]maid I've seen like the \[F]sweet \[C]colleen
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That I \[Dm]met in the Coun\[C]ty \[Dm]Down.
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\endchorus
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\beginverse
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As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head,
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And I looked with a feelin' rare,
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And I says, says I, to a passer-by,
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"Who's the maid with the nut brown hair?"
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He smiled at me and he says, says he,
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"That's the gem of Ireland's crown.
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Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
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She's the star of the County Down."
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\endverse
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\beginverse
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At the Harvest Fair she'll be surely there
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And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes,
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With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right
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For a smile from my nut brown rose.
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No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
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Till my plough turns rust coloured brown.
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Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
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Sits the star of the County Down.
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\endverse
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\endsong
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