On The Parish by Cathal Coughlan

From the Cathal Coughlan’s 1996 Grand Necropolitan album. Written by Cathal Coughlan. No capo.

< BACK TO CHORDS

INTRO

[F7] [Gm] (x2)

VERSE 1

[F7] I am the spirit of this [Gm] ruptured age
[F7] I come to tell you how you [Gm7] can be saved

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

VERSE 2

[F7] You know those ancestors you [Gm] ridicule?
[F7] Well, they were safe because they [Gm7] followed rules

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

[D7] One evening you felt hopeful so a [Cm7] child was born
[D7] To gross unpleasantness in [Cm7] ever-changing [D7] forms

VERSE 3

[F7] It’s time to build a kind of [Gm] village here
[F7] Amid the concrete and il [Gm7] literate, grimy fear

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

VERSE 4

[F7] You won’t be hearing from the [Gm] showbiz crowd
[F7] Who win elections with their [Gm7] decomposing bites of sound

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

[D7] A school, a hospital, a [Cm] nice dry home?
[D7] Whatever else you want, [Cm7] find it on your [D7] own

CHORUS 1

You’ll [Bb] all be starving when your [Ebmaj7] hair is white
Un [Bb] less you’re lucky or you [Ebmaj7] end your life
You’re [Fm] on the parish with the [C7] drunk, novelist and [F] milkmaid

VERSE 5

[F7] You’ll nail up roofbeams with a [Gm] silent type
Who’ll set [F7] fire to your legs and then [Gm7] giggle at the sight

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

VERSE 6

[F7] He’ll call the police on a [Gm] mobile phone
And say “My [F7] right to fun is threatened, must I [Gm7] face this on my own?”

[Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [Bb] [A7] [Cm] [Eb] [G7]

[D7] They’ll mutter “yes” to him and [Cm] you’ll sigh, “Friend,
[D7] Comb your hair, the camera’s a [Cm7] bout to record your [D7] end”

CHORUS 2

You’ll [Bb] all be starving when your [Ebmaj7] hair is white
De [Bb] vout Rotarian and [Ebmaj7] Trotskyite
On the [Fm] parish with the [C7] rock musician and the [F] vicar

INTERLUDE

[Abmaj7]

You’ll use computers because you can
To talk to some dick-nailer in Japan
Who will unveil conspiracies
But not one golden syllable’s for free (motherfucker!)

VERSE 7

[F7] Like the air raid dodgers [Gm] hid in caves
[F7] And the immigrant hordes [Gm7] on the crusades

[Bb] Gui [A7] ded by vi [Cm] sions [Eb] and [Bb] my [A7] stic tra [Cm] di [Eb] tions [G7]

VERSE 8

[F7] The need for burial to [Gm] fight the plague
[F7] The heretic and fornicator [Gm7] made to change their ways

[Bb] Sweet [A7] retri [Cm] bu [Eb] tion, town [Bb] square [A7] ex [Cm] ecu [Eb] tions [G7]

[D7] That all kept order in a [Cm] natural way
And you’ll [D7] make it so again your [Cm7] children for to [D7] save

CHORUS 3

You’ll [Bb] all be starving when your [Ebmaj7] hair is white
So [Bb] count your duties for you [Ebmaj7] have no rights
You’re [Fm] on the parish and the [C7] time for tantrums is [F7] over