Тональность: A minor
Verse 1
F
Am
G
Am
G
Am
Come gather round,
G
friends, and I'll tell you a tale
Am
Of when the red iron or
G
Am
bits have run plenty
But the cobbled filled windows
G
and old men on the benches
Am
G
Am
Tell you now that the whole town's empty
In the north end of town my
G
own children have grown
Am
But I was raised on the other
In the wee hours of use,
Am
G
Am
And I was brought up by my brother
The iron ore poured as
G
the years passed us on
Am
G
The drag lines and shovels
Till one day my brother
Am
G
Am
The same as my father before him
Well the long winter's waitin'
G
from the window I watched
G
Am
they couldn't have been kinder
G
And my school, it was cut as I quit in the
spring
To marry
G
Am
Thomas, a miner
Oh, the years passed again
G
and the giving was good
Am
G
With the lunch bucket filled every season
Am
What with three babies born
down
Am
G
Am
To half a day's shift and no reason
Then the shaft was soon shut
Am
G
Am
And the firing air it held frozen
Till a man came to speak and
Am
G
That number eleven was
Complained in the
G
East they're paying too high
Am
G
They say that your ore
Am
ain't worth diggin'
That it's much cheaper down the
G
South
American towns
Am
G
Am
Well, miners work al most for nothing
So the mining gate's locked
rotting
Am
G
And the room smelled heavy
G
Well, a sad song made me out twice as long
Am
G
Am
As I waited for the sun to go sinking
I lived by the window as
G
he talked to himself
Am
G
Am
The silence of tongues it was building
Then one morning's week,
Am
G
Am
And I'd slept alone with three children
When summer is gone,
G
the ground's turning cold
Am
G
G
The stars, one by one, they are folding
Am
My children will go as
G
Am
Well, there ain't noth
in' here now to hold
Am
em'
you
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