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Pogues : If I Should Fall From Grave With God
1988

  1. If I Should Fall From Grace With God
  2. Turkish Song Of The Damned
  3. Bottle Of Smoke
  4. Fairytale Of New York
  5. Thousands Are Sailing

If I Should Fall From Grace With God

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D
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F#m
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F#m
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E
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F#m
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A
If I should fall from grace with God
D
A
Where no doctor can relieve me
A
If I'm buried 'neath the sod
D
F#m
But the angels won't receive me
A
Let me go, boys
F#m
D
Let me go, boys
A
D
A
Let me go down in the mud
E
(
A
) Where the rivers all run dry |
A
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D
A
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E
A
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x2
This land was always ours Was the proud land of our fathers It belongs to us and them Not to any of the others Let them go, boys Let them go, boys Let 'em go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry |
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D
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x2
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x4
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D
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x2
 Bury me at sea Where no murdered ghost can haunt me If I rock upon the waves No corpse can lie upon me It's coming up threes, boys It's coming up threes, boys Let them go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry |
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D
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x2
If I should fall from grace with God Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod So the angels won't receive me Let me go, boys Let me go, boys Let me go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry |
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D
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x2
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F#m
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Turkish Song Of The Damned

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
e|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
B|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
G|-----------------|-----0-----------|-----------------|-----0---2-------|
D|-----0---23232-0-|-2323--232-------|-----0---23232-0-|-2323--2---------|
A|-0-1---0---------|---------------1-|-0-1---0---------|---------------0-|
E|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
e|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
B|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
G|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----0---2-------|
D|-----------0-----|---0-------------|-----0---23232-0-|-2323--2---------|
A|-01010-0-1---0-0-|-1---0-1---------|-0-1---0---------|-----------------|
E|-----------------|---------3-----3-|-----------------|-----------------|
Am
I come old friend from hell tonight across the rotting sea
Am
Nor the nails of the cross nor the blood of Christ can bring you help this eve
Dm
Am
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
Dm
Am
G
They stand outside your door four score and three
C
F
Did you keep a watch for the dead man's wind
C
G
Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand
C
F
Wailing away on the wall on the strand
C
G
As you danced to the Turkish song of the damned
Am
Am
Dm
You remember when the ship went down, you left me on the deck The captain's corpse jumped up and threw his arms around my neck For all these years I've had him on my back This debt cannot be paid with all your jack
Repeat chorus x2
Am
Am
Dm
Repeat intro
And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white This shadow hanging over me is no trick of the light The spectre on my back will soon be free The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
Repeat chorus x3
Whistle solo over chorus x2
Am
Am
Dm
. . . . . . . .
e|-------------------------|-------<-3->-0-----<-3->---|
B|-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->-|-<-3->---1-3---3-1---------|
G|-0---0-0---0-2---2-2-0-2-|-0---0-0-----------0-2-0---|
D|---------2---------------|---------------------------|
A|-------------------------|---------------------------|
E|-------------------------|---------------------------|
 . . . . . . . .
e|-------------------------|---------------------------|
B|-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->-|-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->-<-3->---|
G|-0---0-0---0-2---2-2-0-2-|-0-----------0-------------|
D|---------2---------------|---2-0---0-2---2-0---0-2---|
A|-------------------------|-------3-----------3-------|
E|-------------------------|---------------------------|

Bottle Of Smoke

e|---------------------------------|------------------------------------|
B|---------------------------------|------------------------------------|
G|-------5-----------5----------5--|-------5-----------5----5-2---------|
D|---2-5---------2-5--5-----2-5--5-|---2-5---------2-5--5-------5-2-----|
A|-3-----------3----------3--------|-3-----------3------------------5-3-|
E|---------------------------------|------------------------------------|
C
F
C
Thanks and praises, thanks to Jesus
C
F
C
I bet on the Bottle of Smoke
C
F
C
I went to hell and to the races
C
F
C
To bet on the Bottle of Smoke
F
C
The day being clear, the sky being bright
F
G
C
He came up on the left like a streak of light
C
F
C
Like a drunken fuck on a Saturday night
C
F
C
Up came the Bottle of Smoke
F
C
Twenty fucking five to one
C
F
Me gambling days are done
F
C
I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke
F
G
C
And my horse won Stewards inquiries, swift and fiery I had the Bottle of Smoke Inquisitions and suppositions I had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the stewards, a trip to Lourdes Might give the old fuckers the power of sight Screaming springers and stoppers and call out coppers But the money still gleams in my hand like a light Twenty fucking five to one Me gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won
Am
Bookies cursing, cars reversing I had the Bottle of Smoke Glasses steaming, vessels bursting I had the Bottle of Smoke Slip a fifty to the wife And for each brat a crisp new five To give me a break on a Saturday night When I had the Bottle of Smoke Twenty fucking five to one Me gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won Priests and maidens, drunk as pagans They had the Bottle of Smoke Sins forgiven and celebrations They had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the Yanks and drink their wives The moon is clear, the sky is bright I'm happy as the horses shite Up came the Bottle of Smoke Twenty fucking five to one Me gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won

Fairytale Of New York

C
F
It was Christmas Eve babe, in the drunktank
C
G
An old man said to me, won't see another one
C
F
And then he sang a song, the Rare Old Mountain Dew
C
F
G
C
I turned my face away and dreamed about you
C
F
Got on a lucky one, came in eighteen to one
C
G
I've got a feeling this year's for me and you
C
F
So happy Christmas, I love you baby
C
F
G
C
I can see a better time when all our dreams come true
C
G
Am
F
They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold
C
F
G
But the wind blows right through you, it's no place for the old
C
Am
C
F
When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve
C
F
G
C
You promised me Broadway was waiting for me
C
G
You were handsome, you were pretty, queen of New York City
C
F
G
C
When the band finished playing they howled out for more
C
G
Sinatra was swinging, all the drunks they were singing
C
F
G
C
We kissed on the corner then danced through the night
F
G
C
Am
The boys of the NYPD choir were singing "Galway Bay"
C
F
G
C
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day
1st verse instrumental
C
G
Am
F
You're a bum, you're a punk, you're an old slut on junk
C
G
Living there almost dead on a drip in that bed
C
G
You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot
C
F
G
C
Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it's our last
F
G
C
Am
The boys of the NYPD choir still singing "Galway Bay"
C
F
G
C
And the bells are ringing out for Christmas Day
C
F
I could have been someone, well so could anyone
C
G
You took my dreams from me when I first found you
C
F
I kept them with me babe, I put them with my own
C
F
G
C
Can't make it all alone, I've built my dreams around you
F
G
C
Am
The boys of the NYPD choir still singing "Galway Bay"
C
F
G
C
And the bells are ringing out for Christmas Day

Thousands Are Sailing

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F#m
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E
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Bm
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x2
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A
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D
The island it is silent now, but the ghosts still haunt the waves
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F#m
Bm
E
And the torch lights up a famished man who fortune could not save
A
D
Did you work upon the railroad? Did you rid the streets of crime?
A
F#m
E
A
Were your dollars from the White House? Were they from the five and dime?
F#m
D
A
Did the old songs taunt or cheer you? And did they still make you cry?
F#m
Bm
E
Did you count the months and years? Or did your teardrops quickly dry?
A
D
Ah, no, says he, 'twas not to be on a coffin ship I came here
A
F#m
E
A
And I never even got so far that they could change my name
F#m
E
Bm
Thousands are still sailing across the Western Ocean
F#m
E
Bm
To a land of opportunity that some of them will never see
F#m
E
Bm
Fortune prevailing across the Western Ocean
F#m
Their bellies full and their spirits free
E
Bm
(
D
) They'll break the chains of poverty, and they'll dance |
D
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F#m
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E
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Bm
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A
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| In Manhattan's desert twilight, in the death of afternoon We stepped hand-in-hand on Broadway like the first man on the moon And "The Blackbird" broke the silence as you whistled it so sweet And in Brendan Behan's footsteps I danced up and down the street Then we said goodnight to Broadway, giving it our best regards Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan, dear old Times Square's favourite bard Then we raised a glass to JFK, and a dozen more besides When I got back to my empty room, I suppose I must have cried
F#m
E
Bm
Thousands are sailing again across the ocean
F#m
E
Bm
Where the hand of opportunity draws tickets in a lottery
F#m
E
Bm
Postcards we're mailing of sky-blue skies and oceans
F#m
E
Bm
From rooms the daylight never sees, where lights don't glow on Christmas trees (
D
F#m
) But we dance to the music, and we dance |
D
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F#m
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E
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Bm
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x2
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F#m
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F#m
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A
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E
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x2
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F#m
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F#m
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A
E
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A
| Thousands are sailing again across the ocean Where the hand of opportunity draws tickets in a lottery Where e'er we go, we celebrate the land that makes us refugees From fear of priests with empty plates from guilt and weeping effigies And we dance to the music, and we dance |
D
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F#m
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E
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Bm
| ...