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The Praties


(A7)  Dm  Bb 
Oh, the  praties they grow  small,
Gm  Dm 
Over  here, over  here,

Oh the praties they grow small,

Gm  A7 
And we  dig them in the  Fall,
Bb  Dm 
And we  eat them coats and  all,
Gm  Bb  Dm 
Over  here, over  here .

Oh I wish that we were geese,
Night and morn, night and morn,
Oh I wish that we were geese,
For they fly and take their ease,
And they live and die in peace,
Eatin' corn, eatin' corn.

Oh we're trampled in the dust,
Over here, over here,
Oh we're trampled in the dust,
But the Lord in whom we trust
Will give us crumb for crust,
Over here, over here.

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