Intro:
G Bm G
A G Bm
A G Bm
Verse
D G Em
My father rises early and he makes a sup of tea,
A A7 G D
he lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me.
D G Em
His days are often empty, he’s nothing much to do,
A A7 D
so he sits and tells me stories of the travelling life he knew.
Bm G
In the evening they would meet in lonely country lanes
Bm G
A field away you’ll hear a collie bark.
Bm G
And they’d pass the time away with talks about the day,
A G
standing round the campfire in the dark,
A G
standing round the campfire in the dark
Verse
D G Em
My mother likes the house, the hot water and the rooms,
A A7 G D
it’s warm in the winter and she’s handy with the broom.
D G Em
Sometimes she makes colcannon, more often griddle bread,
A A7 D
there’s a hunger deep inside her for the travelling life thas dead
Bm G
In the evening she would lift the black pot from the coals,
Bm G
‘a bit to eat‘ she always would remark.
Bm G
There’d be vessels left to clean while children could be seen
A G
playing round the campfire in the dark
A G
playing round the campfire in the dark.
Verse
D G Em
We’d go down to the pool hall to chat up the town boers,
A A7 G D
sometimes at their discos we can’t get past the doors.
D G Em
We’re still tinkers to them and it’s thrown at our ears,
A A7 G D
We’re still the awful strangers even after all these years
Verse
D G Em
And I think about my own life and the way that it will be,
A A7 G D
an escort van, a bit of dealing, a wife and a family.
D. G Em
Thursday I collect the dole, Friday pitch and toss,
A A7 G D
But on the site I think about the traveller’s way we’ve lost.
Verse
Bm G Em
And I wish that I could rise, wash the sleep out of these eyes,
Bm G
and listen to the sweet song of the lark.
Bm G
And I wish that I could be in campfire company,
A G
with the sound of horses moving in the dark,
A G
with the sound of horses moving in the dark,
A G
with the sound of horses moving moving in the dark.