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My Old Man  James Keelaghan

CAPO: 2nd Fret
My old [G]man was a [C]good old man
Skilled in the moulding [G]trade
In the stinking heat of the [F]iron [C]foundry
[F]My old man was [G]made
[F]Down on his [G]knees in the [C]moulding sand
He [F]wore his trade like a [G]company brand
He was [F]one of the Cyclops' [C]smoky band
Yes, [F]that was [G]my old [C]man[F] [G] [C]
My old [G]man wasn't [C]really old
It's just that I was [G]young
And anyone o'er [F]twelve years [C]old
Was [F]halfway to the [G]tomb
He was [F]loyal to his [G]workmates [C]all his life
Gave [F]over his pay-pack [G]to his wife
He'd [F]have a few jars on a [C]Saturday night
Yes, [F]that was [G]my old [C]man[F] [G] [C]
My old [G]man was a [C]union man
Worked hard all his [G]days
He [C]understood the [F]system
And was wise to the boss' [G]ways
He [F]said, "If you [G]want what's [C]yours by right
You'll [F]have to struggle with [G]all your might
They'll [F]rob you blind if [C]you don't fight them"
[F]That was [G]my old [C]man[F] [G] [C]
My old [G]man was a [C]proud old man
At home on the foundry [G]floor
Until the day they [F]laid him [C]off
And [F]showed him out the [G]door
They [F]gave him his [G]card, said, "[C]Times are slack,
We [F]found a machine that [G]has the knack
Of [F]doing your job, so [C]don't come back"
The [F]end of [G]my old [C]man
My old [G]man was [C]fifty-one
What was he to [G]do?
A moulding craftsman [F]on the [C]dole
In [F]nineteen fifty-[G]two
He [F]felt he'd [G]given [C]all he could give
So he [F]did what thousands of [G]others did
He a[F]bandoned hope and the [C]will to live
They [F]killed him, [G]my old [C]man[F] [G] [C]
My old [G]man he is [C]dead and gone
And I am your old [G]man
And my advice to [F]you, my [C]child
Is to [F]fight back while you [G]can
Be[F]ware the [G]man with the [C]silicon chip
Hold [F]on to your job with a [G]good firm grip
'Cause [F]if you don't, you've [C]cashed your chips
The [F]same as [G]my old [C]man
'Cause [F]if you don't, you've [C]cashed your chips
The [F]same as [G]my old [C]man [F] [G] [C]

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