Back Home in Derry
Words by Bobby Sands, MP / Music by Gordon Lightfoot
In [E]1803 as we [G]sailed
out to sea,
[D]Out from the [A]sweet
town of [E]Derry.
For Australia bound if we [G]didn’t
all drown,
The [D]marks of our
[A]fetters we [E]carried.
In our rusty iron chains we [G]cried
for our wains
And the [D]good
women we left in [E]sorrow.
As the mainsails unfurled, our [G]curses
we hurled
At the [D]English
and [A]thoughts of to-[E]morrow.
At the [E]mouth of
the Foyle, bid fare-[G]well to the soil,
As [D]down below [A]decks
we were [E]lyin’.
O’Doherty screamed, wakened [G]out
of a dream
By a [D]vision of [A]Bold
Robert [E]dyin’.
The sun burned us cruel as we [G]dished
out the gruel.
Dan O’[D]Connor was
down with a [E]fever.
Sixty rebels today, bound [G]for
Botany Bay,
How [D]many will [A]reach
their re-[E]ceiver?
[G]Oh-[D]oh,
I [E]wish I was [D]back
home in [E]Derry.
[G]Oh-[D]oh,
I [E]wish I was [D]back
home in [E]Derry.
I [E]cursed them to
hell as our [G]bow fought the swell
Our [D]ship danced
like a [A]moth in the [E]firelight.
White horses rode high as the [G]Devil
passed by,
Takin’ [D]souls down
to [A]Hades by [E]twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were [G]now
forty-three.
We [D]buried our
comrades each [E]morning.
In our own slime we were [G]lost
for a time
Of [D]endless [A]night
without [E]dawning.
[E]Van Diemen’s Land
is a [G]Hell for a man,
To [D]live out his [A]whole
life in [E]slavery.
Where the climate is raw and the [G]gun
makes the law,
Neither [D]wind nor
[A]rain care for [E]bravery.
Twenty years have gone by and I’ve [G]ended
my bond,
My [D]comrades’
ghosts walk be-[E]side me.
A Rebel I came and [G]I’m
still the same,
On the [D]cold winds
of [A]night you will [E]find
me.
[G]Oh-[D]oh,
I [E]wish I was [D]back
home in [E]Derry.
[G]Oh-[D]oh,
I [E]wish I was [D]back
home in [E]Derry.