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