Guitar Tabs, Chords and Lyrics


Mountain men  Jethro Tull

[Am]    [F/A]     [D/A]     [G/A]     [A]   [D/A]     [C]   [B]   [Am]The poacher and his daught[F]er throw soft
[D]shadows on the wate[G]r in the night.[A5] [D5] [E] [C] [B]
A[Am] thin moon slips behind[F] them as they
[D]pull the net with no[G] betraying ligh[A5]t. [D5] [E5] [C] [B]
[D]And later on the coa[F]st road,
I [C]meet them and the ol[Bb]d man w[F/A]inks a smil[G5]e.
[Am]And who am I to fast de[F]ny the right
[D]to take a fis[G]h once in a whi[A5]le? [D5] [E5] [C5] [B5]
[Am]I walk with them, they [F]wish me luck
when I [D]ship out on the Sun[G]day from the ky[A5]le. [D5] [E5] [C] [B]
And fr[D]om the church I [F]hear them singing
[C]as the ship moves sa[Bb]dly fro[F/A]m the pier.[G5]
Oh[Am], poacher's daughter, S[F]unday best,
two h[D]undred brave souls s[G]hare the farewell[A5] tea[D5]r. [E5] [F5] [C5]
C5 F5 C5 double time
[F5]There's a house on the hillside,
where the drifting sands ar[D5]e born.
[F5]Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
[G5]back to the land where I came fr[Bb]om.
[C]   Where the [Bb]mountain men are k[Dm]ings
[C]  and the sound of the p[Bb]iper counts [F]for ev[Dm]erything. [C] [Bb(sus4]
same
Did my tour, did my duty. I did all they asked of me.
Died in the trenches and at Alamein
...died in the Falklands on T.V.
Going back to the mountain kings
where the sound of the piper counts for everything.
[Am]Long generatio[F]ns from the Isles
[D]sent to tread[G] the foreign miles[Am]
where the s[D5]piral ages me[E5]et.
Felt naked dust beneat[F5]h their feet.
[Gm]Future sun called winds to bl[Eb/G]ow
[Gm]and the past and present hard-eye[Eb/G]d crow
flew hu[Gm]nting high and [Eb/G]circling low over
bl[F]ackened p[Eb]lains o[F]f Ed[C5]en. [F4] [C5] [F4]
REST OF LYRICS
There's a child and a woman praying for an end to the mystery.
Hoping for a word in a letter
fair wind-blown from across the sea
to where the mountain men are kings
and the sound of the piper counts for eveything.
There's a house on the hillside, where the drifting sands are born.
Lay down and let the slow tide wash me
back to the land where I came from.
Where the mountain men are kings
and the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Where the real mountain men are kings
and the sound of the piper counts for everything.
Feel the naked dust beneath my toes
while the future sun calls winds to blow
and the past and present black-eyed crow
flies hunting high and circling low
between dream mountains of our Eden.
words and music by Ian Anderson
transcripted by paco jimenez
ARCHIVEL@teleline.es

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A A5 Am B B5 Bb C C5 D D5 Dm E E5 Eb Eb/G F F4 F5 G G5 Gm
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