Can't remember where I found this but here you go.

SCRAPS OF PAPER
Words & music: Eric Bogle


(G) These days my life seems (Am) somehow like a (D) tired old cliché -
(G) A bad (Am) movie scene that (D) just goes on and on; (G)
(G) With dialogue like (Am) "It's so sad how (D) fast time slips away" (G)
(G) Or "How you (Am) never really (D) miss them 'til they're (G) gone".
(Am) Funny how these (D) old clichés come (G) true -
(Am) Never thought I'd (Am7) miss him - but I (D) do.

Chorus:
(G) My Father (Bm) died in (Am) sum (D) - mer -(G) and all he (Bm) left behind (D)
(G) Were little (Bm) scraps of (Am) pa(D) - per - little (Bm) scraps of rhyme. (Am)
I (Am) read them - and felt (D) something inside me break (G)
And (Bm) angrily cried out "Too late - too (Am) late!"
(G) Surely there (Bm) must be something (Am) better ... (Dm)
(G) Surely there (Bm) must be something (Am) better ... (Dm)

          (G)      (Bm)       (Am)       (D)      (G)    (inst)

He and I were always strangers searchin' for someone.
I was looking for a hero - and he a friend;
So while I searched for my father, he was lookin' for his son
And strangers we remained until the end -
But the man who wrote his heart into those rhymes ...
I know he could have been a good friend of mine.

Chorus:       My Father died in summer …

So I sit here, where he lived and died, as the ghosts around me weave,
As the evening shadows lengthen on the wall
And in this bare and empty room, it's easy to believe
That he never lived at all
but the little scraps of paper in my hand
Prove he lived to me; the father and the man
.
Chorus:       My Father died in summer …