Knock Song

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At the early age of thirty-eight Me mother said ‘Go West!’
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‘Get up, ‘ says she. ‘and get a job’. Says I, ‘I’ll do my best’
G            D              Em       A
I pulled on me Wellingtons to march to Kiltimagh
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But I took a wrong turn in Charlestown and ended up in Knock
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Oh once this quiet crossroads was a place of gentle prayer
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Where Catholics got indulgent once or twice a year.
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You could buy a pair of rosary beads or get your candles blessed
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If you had a guilty conscience you could get it off your chest.
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Then came the priest form Partry father Horan was his name
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And since he’s been appointed Knock has never been the same.
G          D                Em                   A
‘Begod,’ says Jem, ’tis eighty years since Mary was adout.’
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‘Tis time for another miracle.’ and he blew the candle out.

G              D               G          D
From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh,
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There’s never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock
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To establish terra firma he draw up a ten year plan
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And started running dances around 1961.
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He built a fantabulous church, Go h-álainn, on the holy ground
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And once he had a focal point he started to expand
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Chip shops and Bed and Breakfasts sprung up over night.
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Once a place for quiet retreats now a holy sight.
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All sorts of fancy restaurants for every race and creed
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Where black and white and yellow pilgrims all could get a feed
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The stalls once under canvas became religious supermarts
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With such a range o’ godly goods, they had top twenty charts.
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While the airport opposition was destroyed by James’ trump card.
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For centenary celebrations he got John Paul the twenty-third

G              D               G          D
From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh,
D                             A             D
There’s never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock
D                            A           D
‘We had the Blessed virgin here,’ Bold Jamesie did declare,
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‘And Pope John Paul the twenty-third appeared just over there.’
G             D               Em               A
‘Now do you mean to tell me’, he said in total shock,
‘That I am not entitled to an airport here in Knock.’
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TD’s were lobbied and harassed with talk of promised votes
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And people who’d been loyal for years now spoke of changing coats.
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Eternal damnation was threatened on the flock
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Who said it was abortive building airports up in Knock
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Now everyone is happy the miracle is complete.
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Father Horan’s got his runway, it’s eighteen thousand feet
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All sorts of planes could land there, of that there’s little doubt,
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handy for the George Bush to keep knock Gadaffi out.
D                            A           D
Did NATO donate, me boys, did NATO donate the dough?
D                                     A              D
Did NATO donate, me Girls, did NATO donate the dough?
G             D               Em               A
Did NATO donate the dough, the dough, did NATO donate the dough?
D                                A               D
Eighteen thousand feet of runway is an awful long way to go.

Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.