The Waterboys – The Connemara Fox (Guitar)

E                      E7 E6
There's a man on the run

E                      E7 E6
He moves at the speed

                    A
And he carries the news

                      E
That what you've been told

     C
His enemies number fallen priests

 A
Men of power and the crooked police

G
Cynics from the skool of hard knocks

      A
And a motley crowd of mis-matched other old crocks

                        E7
Who're never ever gonna catch

                   E
They chased him in Cong

                   E
They missed him in Maam

                   E
He was already gone

                   E
Never giving a damn

                A
Wanted dead or alive

                        A
Up the back of of Dog's Bay

                       E
But by the time they arrived

                   E
He was leagues away

       C
In an oyster bar playing dominoes

        A
And the only clues he left his foes

       G
Were a fistful of dust, a change of the locks

        A
The words of a Kris Kristoffersen song, a pair of old socks

                   E
And graffiti saying so long, suckers

                   E
Love, the Connemara Fox

                E
He was in Bunnahown

                   E
On the day of the fair

                   E
When ship-like clouds

                   E
Sailed the summer air

                   A
And a bodhran thumped

                   A
And a saxophone played

                   E
As the people jumped

                   E
And danced at the side of the bay

       C
They say he had long elegant fingers

        A
And when he was gone magic lingered

       G
A bolt of love that stopped the clocks

        A
From the village lane where the washing hung to the city blocks

                   E
The name on every tongue

                   E
Was the Connemara Fox

                   E
He left a diktat

                   E
On the priest's window sill

                   E
It said "Crough Paaaatrick, Sonny

                   E
Is the paganest hill

                    A
In the whole lump of Ireland

                   A
It shone with green light

                   E
That's why they buried its power

                   E
Under Christian rites

       C
And that bogus name to which it never belonged

        A
That you can't even rhyme in a spell or a song

       G
You're trying to put life back into the box"

        A
And the priest ran out with a scream in the night in his cap and frocks

                   E
He never even caught sight

                   E
Of the Connemara Fox

                        E
He'll be where there is music

                        E
He'll be where there is crack

                     E
He'll be howling the blues

                E
In the yard out back

                     A
He'll be down in the Claddagh

                  A
Playin' pitch and toss

                      E
He says guilt's an imposter, baby

                 E
You been double-crossed

       C
And just when you think you've got him pegged

        A
All you'll see are the backs of his legs

      G
A shadow passing way over the rocks

   A
A wisp of hair, a ghostly snatch of the sound of a box

                    E
No one's ever gonna catch

               E
The Connemara Fox

              E
The Connemara Fox

              E
The Connemara Fox

              E
The Connemara Fox

              E
The Connemara Fox