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