James Keelaghan - Rebeccas lament

The last time I ^Fsaw him, he'd been ^Cswallowed by the ^Gwood I'd have ^Amfollowed if I ^Fcould, he'd have ^Cstayed had he ^Gwanted Had ^Che the ^Fdesire or ^Chad I the ^Gwill I would ^Ambe with him ^Fstill, but in^Cstead he just ^Ghaunts me I ^Fknew when he ^Cfaded, I'd ne'er see him a^Fgain His ^Dmlaughter's ^Dm7/Cembrace would no ^Fmore me sur^Ground The ^Cchill that went ^Fthrough me, is the ^Cchill wind that ^Gblows ^Ddim7Through the ^Amsoft midnight ^Fstillness of ^GChilicote ^Ctown

The smell of the ^Fblanket he ^Cwrapped 'round my ^Gshoulders Comes ^Amback to me ^Fnow on a ^Cfaint wisp of ^Gsmoke Comes ^Cback with a ^Fvengeance that ^Cmakes me re^Gmember Those ^Amnights 'round the ^Ffire, when ^Cfond words we ^Gspoke That ^Fblanket was ^Cwoven in some shattered ^Fvillage That is ^Dmgone now for^Dm7/Cever, may ^Fnever be ^Gfound His ^Cpeople are ^Fscattered, their ^Cfondest hopes ^Gdashed ^Ddim7He'd have ^Ambeen better ^Foff here in ^GChilicote ^Ctown

I knew from the ^Fstart ^Cjust where he ^Gstood A^Ambout his in^Ftentions, there ^Cwas no mis^Gtake To ^Cstay, meant his ^Fdream, so ^Cdear to his ^Gheart Was the ^Amone thing he ^Fknew he must ^Csomehow for^Gsake He ^Fjust couldn't ^Csee that the old ways were ^Fpassing A ^Dmnew wave was ^Dm7/Crising and ^Fhe would be ^Gdrowned And ^Clike it or ^Fnot, the ^Chistory's ^Gwritten ^Ddim7Not ^Amin the ^Fforest, but in ^GChilicote ^Ctown

There's sadness in ^Fparting from ^Cwhat we hold ^Gdear There's a ^Amdanger in ^Fstaying for ^Cfear we'll be ^Glost One ^Chalf of us ^Fwishes to ^Clive out our ^Gdreams The ^Amother half ^Freckons and ^Ccounts out the ^Gcost Though ^Fwe may go ^Con to a far greater ^Fglory By ^Dmknowing where ^Dm7/Cdestiny is ^Fsure to be ^Gfound I ^Cwish him no ^Fill, though I ^Cwish him no ^Gfame Than ^Ddim7such ^Amfame as he'd ^Ffind here in ^GChilicote ^Ctown

The last time I ^Fsaw him, he'd been ^Cswallowed by the ^Gwood I'd have ^Amfollowed if I ^Fcould, he'd have ^Cstayed had he ^Gwanted