C# B F#
C# B F#
C#
He met with the world as a Dalkeith boy,
Raised from a shaft at Monktonhall
B
In a well oiled cage,
F#
That locked away his dreams.
C#
An '85 veteran facefrom the gallery,
G# ghost from the civil war in the family,
B
He stood his ground on the picketline.
F#
'Til all that he was left with,
C#
Were his father's cough
And his mother's eyes.
That would hold a tear
For the very first time,
B F#
When the government took his job away.
C#
Now fist in hand he'll stand in line.
Declare his name and mark his time.
B F#
To some the only proof that they're alive.
CHORUS:
E
He could have been you. _|
He could have been me. |
D | x 2
He could have been anybody |
(Bb) E |
But he was born lucky. _|
E D A
E
He mad his first downpayment,
On a sharp Italian suit.
D A
He sewed razor blades into the lapels,
E
See him sweating on the dancefloor.
Coal dust oozing out of every pore.
D
G# hard man with a hard life,
A
And that's a story that he'll tell you,
E
Down at Easter Road till his throat is raw.
On a Saturday, he knows the score,
D
Till the whistle blows and,
A
The tempers with their colours fade away.
{CHORUS}
C# B F#
C#
On the helipads at Aberdeen
Bound for platforms drilling oil rich seas,
B
Where the trawlers are getting fewer
F#
Every year.
C#
By the furnaces at Ravenscraig,
By the padlocks holding John Brown's gates,
B F#
In the desert, in the fields of South Armagh,
C#
Where the poppies grow,
Behind the Hampden roar,
Behind the drums in Genoa.
B F#
On the deck that rides a south Atlantic swell,
C#
Born to fight out of the tightest corner.
You can bet on him with the odds against you,
B
They'll not put him down
F#
No matter how hard they try.
{CHORUS}
Repeat
E D A
till end.
Christer Varan