Dave Gunning - Prince of pictou

By the ^Glights of Pictou ^CHarbour ^D A lonely ^Gprince stands on the ^Cshore ^D Left be^Ghind across the ^Cocean ^D To hide the ^Gways of George the ^CIV ^D

A lantern ^Gflickers in the ^Challway ^D A clock burns ^Gtime from afar ^{C D} Dressed to ^Gkill but ^Cdying fast inside ^D He makes his ^Gway down to the ^Cbar ^D

He tells the ^Gstory of his ^Cold life ^D To a ^Gwall of disbelief^{C D} He buys a ^Gdrink for the ^Cgirls of Creighton Street ^D And spends the ^Gfortune of a ^CKing

There are ^Emdiamonds ^Cburied in these ^Dwaters There is ^Ggold ^Chidden in the ^Dhills There are ^Emsecrets that ^Clie beneath the ^Dsurface Of an ^Bmunwelcome ^Amson, a ^D9forgotten ^EmPrince

He sits in ^Gdarkness at the ^Ctavern ^D And counts the ^Gyears away from ^Chome He lifts his ^Dglass, makes a ^Bmtoast from his ^Cworn out barroom chair ^D "Here's to ^Glife upon the thron^Ce" ^D

Here's a toast to my ^Gfather I ^Amwonder, does he ever drink to ^Gme? I ^Bbwonder, does he ever think of ^Amme?

The ^Dcold of ^GJanuary ^Ctook him ^D At the ^Gage of thirty-thre^Ce ^D They carried him ^Bmup to the ^Ctop of Laurel Hill ^D To let him ^Grest among the ^Ctrees ^D

And all the ^Gpoliticians ^Cgathered ^D To pay the ^Gmystery man his due^C And al^Dthough they'd never ^Gsaid "Hello", they've ^Ccome to say goodbye ^D Just in ^Gcase the story's t^Crue ^D

There are ^Emdiamonds ^Cburied in these ^Dwaters There is ^Ggold ^Chidden in the ^Dhills There are ^Emsecrets that ^Clie beneath the ^Dsurface Of an ^Bmunwelcome ^Amson, a ^D9forgotten ^EmPrince