Christy Moore - On morecambe bay

Out bey^Dmond the street lamp's ^AmAnd the calliop^Ae's roar, ^DmPast the wrack and samphire, ^AmBeyond the shore,^{A Dm}I have seen walking through the tide ^GmAs the rain cuts through the spray, ^DmChinese Cockle pickers On the ^Amsands of Morec^Aambe Bay

I stood^Dm beside them in the corner shop ^AmAnd in the mark^Aet too ^DmI should have spoken to them ^AmTold them everyth^Aing I knew; ^DmLike our mothers told us ^GmAs we went out to play ^DmNever try and race the tide O^Amn the sands of^A Morecambe Bay

For^Dm the tide's the very devil, It will ^Gmrun you out of breath, Race you^Dm to the sea shore, Chase yo^Amu to your death, ^A Yes the t^Dmide's the very devil And the d^Gmevil has his day On the lo^Dmnley cockle gro^Amunds of ^AMorecam^Dmbe Bay

Saw the^Dmm sending money orders home ^AmThere hard earned pay ^{A Dm}Tales of crossing borders ^AmOn the road to Morecambe Bay; ^{A Dm}Sleeping in crouded rooms ^GmOn cold hard floors ^DmSutch dreamless life Is not ^Amworth dieing fo^Ar

Now I s^Dmee them in the distance ^AmLaid out in the mornin^Ag light, ^DmMigrant workers, ^AmTwenty-three where drowned last n^Aight. ^DmTheir final phone calls ^GmHalf the world had crossed ^DmBetween the river esureys ^AmThey raced the tide and lost.' ^A

For th^Dme tide's the very devil, It will ^Gmrun you out of breath, Race you^Dm to the sea shore, Chase yo^Amu to your death, ^A Yes the t^Dmide's the very devil And the d^Gmevil has his day On the l^Dmonley cockle gr^Amounds of^A Moreca^Dmmbe Bay

In Fuji^Dman and Xelang ^AmThey mourn their next of kin, ^DmGang masters with snake tattoos, ^AmCall money lones back in ^{A Dm}Broken hearted parents ^GmWatch their children stow away, ^DmTo die among the ^AmCockle banks of^A Morec^Dmome Bay

For th^Dme tide's the very devil, And the d^Gmevil has his day On the l^Dmonley cockle gr^Amounds of^A Moreca^Dmmbe Bay