Doon The Watter
Alex BeatonVersion1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
My father worked for buttons in a wee dry salters shop
But we were young and didnae have a care
Our shoes were scuffed and worn, our dungarees a' torn
Our sloppy joes they wirnae fit to wear
Noo me and ma wee brother we were headaches to my mother
And dirty for the best port o' the year
But she had us clean as whistles in our kilts and co-op sandals
When we went down the watter for the fair
And we're sailing doon the Clyde, sailing doon the Clyde
And headin' for Kilgreggan in the morning
Then on to Rothesay Bay we'd leave on Saturday
To catch the Jeannie Dean frae Crigendoran
The summertime was all I'm sure that kept my father gain'
A time that he enjoyed as much as me
The family a' the gither we didnae mind the weather
He'd laugh and sing and bounce us on each knee
'0 toora loora liddey ah finish work on Friday'
His troubles seem to vanish in the air
Ah but noo he's gone forever like the steamers on the river
That went sailing doon the wafter for the fair
The golden age of paddle steamers sadly disappeared
And summertime has never been the same
Those days of river cruisin' that slowly we were losing
An era that will never come again
For now we fly to Malta Majorca and Gibralter
France and Spain and sunny Italy
A' the kids a' think it's heaven like the Clyde for me at seven
But the days of doon the watter's gone for me
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Readable chord sheet for Doon The Watter by Alex Beaton
[C]My father worked for buttons in a [F]wee dry [G]salters [C]shop But we were young and [F]didnae have a [G]care Our [F]shoes were scuffed and worn, our [C]dungarees a' [Am]torn Our [D]sloppy joes they wirnae fit to [G]wear Noo me and ma wee brother we were [C]headaches to my mother And [F]dirty for the best port o' the [E7]year But she [F]had us clean as whistles in our [C]kilts and co-op [Am]sandals When [G]we went down the watter for the [C]fair [C]And we're sailing doon the Clyde, [F]sailing doon the [C]Clyde And headin' for Kilgreggan in the [G]morning Then [C]on to Rothesay Bay we'd [F]leave on Satur[C]day To catch the Jeannie Dean frae Crigen[G]do[C]ran The summertime was all I'm sure that kept my father gain' A time that he enjoyed as much as me The family a' the gither we didnae mind the weather He'd laugh and sing and bounce us on each knee '0 toora loora liddey ah finish work on Friday' His troubles seem to vanish in the air Ah but noo he's gone forever like the steamers on the river That went sailing doon the wafter for the fair The golden age of paddle steamers sadly disappeared And summertime has never been the same Those days of river cruisin' that slowly we were losing An era that will never come again For now we fly to Malta Majorca and Gibralter France and Spain and sunny Italy A' the kids a' think it's heaven like the Clyde for me at seven But the days of doon the watter's gone for me