Rod Stewart – Touchline (Guitar)

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 There he'd stand

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Every Saturday afternoon

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Rain pouring down that well worn face

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With a cigarette in his mouth

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Part of a tiny noisy crowd

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He’d watch his sons play the game he loved

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He would tell us lots of stories

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Of heroes and glories

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And the pride of the Wembley Wizards on Busby Babe

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His enthusiasm was infectious

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He bought us football boots for Christmas

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Our dad was a Scotsman and a plumber by trade

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I remember one time being three down at halftime

       Em                                   D
So, we looked at dad for a plan to turn the tide

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Hе said, "Son we're not herе to have fun"

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That whinger's trying to welch me a muck

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Tackle him hard, and leave him face down in the mud

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On the touchline

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On the touchline, our dad

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A sturdy man of Caledonia and principles

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But of course, we all believed him to be invincible

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A father with a heart on the line

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But as time went by those old legs grew tired

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So we braced ourselves for the inevitable

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 One sunny afternoon, the final whistle blew

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My two brothers and I took him to his grave

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As a long piper played that beautiful amazing grace

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Our touchline dad had died

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Now the funeral wasn’t sad, but a humorous affair

             Em
Our dear old mom, God bless her

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Suffered memory loss

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She said to my sister, "Where on Earth is your father?"

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Sister Mary said, "Mom, he's at the front there in that box"

       Em G C
On the touchline, our dad

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On the touchline, our dad

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Now it's my turn to stand on the side in the rain

          Em                              D
And watch my boys play the beautiful game

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I look up to the clouds and I say

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"Dad I hope you're looking down"

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'Cause if it wasn't for you

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All this might not have been

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On the touchline, our dad

       Em G C   Am    D
On the touchline, our dad