OVER THE LANCASHIRE HILLS November, cold wind and the rain The post office workers complain Damp crowded buses go silently by Homeward their journey again. And at each stop old friends say farewell And leave for the streets where they dwell Up on the top deck Somebody sings with thoughts far away from this place To the halls that the great singers grace. cho:- And those who were moved by the song Will ca - rry their memories long At each new dawn the melody runs Over the Lancashire hills Benches and bare wooden floors, Churches with rattling doors. The backwater streets of a grey northern town Echoes to distant applause And a newspaper falls in the hall and, lying unread by the wall, It carries five lines of a critical kind, It won't detain you too long. They've even spelt your name wrong. Chorus December the night clouds come. The day's work is over and done. Late afternoon and it's dark by five Rain on the bus windows run. Home in the evening gloom. A fire burns in the front room. Music lies open,metronome stands, Piano keys gathering dust, And those window frames shake in the gust Chorus Dropped D if you are planning a guitar accompaniment! Regards Dave Bennett
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