Gordon Lightfoot – The Patriots Dream (Guitar)

Cmaj7 -  x32000
D/F# -   2x0232  (just curl thumb onto second fret on E string

|G              |G              |G              |G            |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

G                        C
songs of the wars are as old as the hills,

     G                          A7              D
They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills.

     G                                     C
They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks

     D                         C                   G
in a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs.

                          C
The patriot's dream is as old as the sky,

   G                      A7           D
It lives in the lust of a cold callous lie.

      G                                      C
Let's drink to the men who got caught by the chill

       D                       C               G
of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills.

|G              |C              |G              |A7      D      |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

|G              |G       C      |D              |C       G      |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 

G                         C
train pulled away on that glorious night,

    G                         A7         D
the drummer got drunk and the bugler got tight.

          G                                    C
Well, the boys in the back sang a song of good cheer

      D                          C               G
while riding off to glory in the spring of their years.

    G                     C
The patriot's dream still lives on today,

   G                         A7           D
It makes mothers weep and it makes lovers pray.

      G                                      C
Let's drink to the men who got caught by the chill

       D                       C               G
of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills.

|Em             |Em             |Em             |Em            |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

G     D/F#     Em   G       D/F#      Em
was a sad, sad lady weeping all night long,

       G        D/F#     Em             G            D/F# Em
she re ceived a sad, sad message from a voice on the tele phone.

    G        D/F#     Em              G      D/F#    Em
Her children were all sleeping as she waited out the dawn,

    G         D/F#       Em             G      D/F#     Em
how could she tell those children their father was shot down.

    G         D/F#   Em                    G         D/F#   Em
She took them to her side that day and she told them one by one,

     G      D/F#  Em                    D/F#       G
Your father was a good man ten thousand miles from ho--------.

      B7
o-o-o-ome

   Am              D           G                    Cmaj7
He tried to do his duty and it took him straight to hell,

   Am               D         G
he might be in some prison, I hope he's treated

|Cmaj7          |Am             |Em             |Em           |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

G     D/F#       Em              G     D/F#   Em
was a young girl watching in the early after  noon

         G         D/F#    Em          G         D/F#    Em
when she heard the name of someone who said he'd be home soon.

    G        D/F#     Em               G      D/F#    Em
She wondered how they got him, but the papers did not tell,

      G        D/F#     Em                   G     D/F#    Em
there would be no sweet reunion, there would be no wedding bells.

       G        D/F#    Em                  G          D/F#       Em
So she took her self in to her room and she turned the bed sheets down,

    G        D/F#   Em                      D/F#     G
she cried in to the silken folds of her new wedding  gow--------.

        B7
ow- ow- own

   Am              D           G                    Cmaj7
He tried to do his duty and it took him straight to hell,

   Am               D         G
he might be in some prison, I hope he's treated

|Cmaj7          |Am             |Em             |Em           |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 G      D/F#    Em             G       D/F#   Em
 was an old man sitting in his mansion on the hill,

   G          D/F#     Em              G         D/F#   Em
he thought of his good fortune and the time he'd yet to kill.

   G      D/F#   Em                  G        D/F#  Em
He called to his wife one day, "Come sit with me a  while,"

     G           D/F#     Em         G        D/F#   Em
then turning to  ward the sunset, he smiled a wicked smile.

          G       D/F#    Em            G      D/F#       Em
"Well I'd like to say I'm sorry for the sinful deeds I've done,

    G      D/F#     Em                     D/F#   G
but let me first re mind you, I'm a patri  otic   saaaaaaahh

        B7
ah- ah- aaaahn

     Am                D           G                    Cmaj7
They tried to do their duty and it took 'em straight to hell.

     Am               D         G
They might be in some prison, I hope they're treated

|Cmaj7          |Am             |D              |D             |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

G                        C
songs of the wars are as old as the hills,

     G                          A7              D
They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills.

     G                                     C
They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks

     D                         C                   G
in a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs.

    G                         C
The train pulled away on that glorious night,

    G                         A7         D
the drummer got drunk and the bugler got tight.

          G                                    C
Well, the boys in the back sang a song of good cheer

      D                          C               G
while riding off to glory in the spring of their years.

    G                     C
The patriot's dream still lives on today,

   G                         A7           D
It makes mothers weep and it makes lovers pray.

      G                                      C
Let's drink to the men who got caught by the chill

       D                       C               G
of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills.

|G              |G       C      |C       D      |D       C      |G            |
 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *