We Sing Hallelujah Richard Thompson
A [A]man is like a [E]rusty wheel
[A]On a rusty [E]cart
He [A]sings [E/G#]his [F#m]song as he [D]rattles a[E]long
and [D]then he [E]falls a[A]part.
And [A]We'll sing halle[E]lujah
At the [A]turning of the [E]year
And we [A]work [E/G#]all [F#m]day in the [D]old fashioned [E]way
'Til the [D]shining [E]star ap[A]pears
A man is like a briar
He covers himself with thorns
he laughs like a clown when his fortunes are down
And his clothes are ragged and torn
A man is like a three string fiddle
Hanging on the wall.
He plays when somebody scrapes on the bow
Or he can't play at all.
A man is like his father
Wishes he'd never been born.
He longs for the time when the clock bell will chime
And he's dead for evermore.