C A# F
C A# F
C
He met with the world as a Dalkeith boy,
Raised from a shaft at Monktonhall
A#
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,
A#
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,
A# 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.
A# F
To some the only proof that they're alive.
CHORUS:
D#
He could have been you. _|
He could have been me. |
C# | x 2
He could have been anybody |
(Bb) D# |
But he was born lucky. _|
D# C# Ab
D#
He mad his first downpayment,
On a sharp Italian suit.
C# Ab
He sewed razor blades into the lapels,
D#
See him sweating on the dancefloor.
Coal dust oozing out of every pore.
C#
G hard man with a hard life,
Ab
And that's a story that he'll tell you,
D#
Down at Easter Road till his throat is raw.
On a Saturday, he knows the score,
C#
Till the whistle blows and,
Ab
The tempers with their colours fade away.
{CHORUS}
C A# F
C
On the helipads at Aberdeen
Bound for platforms drilling oil rich seas,
A#
Where the trawlers are getting fewer
F
Every year.
C
By the furnaces at Ravenscraig,
By the padlocks holding John Brown's gates,
A# F
In the desert, in the fields of South Armagh,
C
Where the poppies grow,
Behind the Hampden roar,
Behind the drums in Genoa.
A# 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,
A#
They'll not put him down
F
No matter how hard they try.
{CHORUS}
Repeat
D# C# Ab
till end.
Christer Varan