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[Verse 1]
C                          Am
May the Lord upon high who rules the sky
F                G        C
Look down on our pubs and bars
C                         Am
And the women and men all seated within
F                G               C
Neglecting their pints and their jars
C                        Am
The craic it is bad, the atmosphere sad
F                G          C
Every man has a face like a mule
C                       Am
For all he can do is to grab an old cue
F                G             C
And start playing that game of pool

[Verse 2]
C                          Am
Well, when I was a boy it was always me joy
F            G        C
To go to the pub each night
C                               Am
There were arguments scraps and killings perhaps
F                G          C
And everyone thought he was right
C                                Am
There were badgers and dogs, and men from the bogs
F                G           C
And young fellows acting the tool
C                         Am
But now there's no crack, for everyman Jack
F                G              C
Has his arse in the air playing pool

[Verse 3]
C                            Am
To the local ale house after milking the cows
F              G        C
Every customer made his way
C                            Am
And there he would dwell and drink till he fell
F                     G              C
While the fiddles and pipes they did play
C                           Am
The jigs and the reels, the rattling of heels
F                 G        C
Polkas and slides were the rule
C                          Am
But now there's no chance of a tune or a dance
F                G              C
For everyone's playing the ould pool

[Verse 4]
C                          Am
Well, this pool you will find is a game designed
F                G        C
For foolish illiterate louts
C                          Am
You push in four bob and you pull an old knob
F                   G              C
And a big shower of balls they come out
C                          Am
They're placed on a table and then if you're able
F                G        C
To knock them all into a hole
C                   Am
More money goes in, you start over again
F                  G           C
And you lose every bob of your dole

[Verse 5]
C                          Am
Now in the Irish Free State, all the people are bate
F                  G           C
From watching and playing this game
C                                Am
In their necks they have cricks, that no doctor could fix
F                  G           C
And their backs and their shoulders are maimed
C                         Am
Their arses protrude in a manner most lewd
F                  G            C
From being hoisted aloft in the air
C                            Am
And their eyeballs are sore, and dripping in gore
F                  G          C
And they act in a manner most quare

[Verse 6]
C                          Am
So if you meet a young man, who's face it is wan
F                  G       C
And his eyes have a vacant stare
C                             Am
His jawbone is slack, and his head is thrown back
F                  G           C
And he can't tell a cob from a mare
C                          Am
His nostrils dilated, his brow corrugated
F                  G        C
His manners like those of a fool
C                          Am
On your shirt you can bet, that you have just met
F                  G             C
A man that's gone plain mad from pool