Lucky

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