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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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\beginverse
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In \[Mim]Banbridge Town in the \[Sol]County \[Ré]Down
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One \[Sol]morning \[Em]last \[Ré]July,
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From a \[Mim]boreen green came a \[Sol]sweet \[Ré]colleen
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And she \[Sol]smiled as she \[Do]passed \[Ré]me \[Mim]by.
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She \[Sol]looked so sweet from her \[Lam]two bare feet
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To the \[Sol]sheen of her \[Mim]nut brown \[Ré]hair.
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Such a \[Mim]coaxing elf, sure I \[Sol]shook \[Ré]myself
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\[Mim]For to see \[Do]I was \[Ré]really \[Mim]there.
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\endverse
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\beginchorus
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From \[Sol]Bantry Bay up to \[Lam]Derry Quay and
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From \[Sol]Galway to \[Mim]Dublin \[Ré]Town,
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No \[Mim]maid I've seen like the \[Sol]sweet \[Ré]colleen
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That I \[Mim]met in the \[Sol]Coun\[Ré]ty \[Mim]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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\benginverse
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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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