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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.