Mott the Hoople - Road to birmingham

His ^Afeet lay heavy ^Bmon the road that ^Dled to Birmingham^A Un^Aseeing ^G#meyes, de^F#mfeated ^Ecries, the ^Gmysteries of ^Amen The ^Amany hears, the ^Bmhelpless tears that ^Dleft the troubled ^Abrow A ^Aman once ^G#mtall,^F#m he fought them ^Eall, but ^Ghe is older ^Anow

For ^Ain your youth, you ^Bmthink the truth will ^Dalways win the ^Agame Some ^Amen are ^G#mkings, some ^F#mmen are ^Erooks, some ^Dmen are pawns to blame^A But ^Aif your skin is ^Bmcoloured black, well the ^Ddice are hidden in^A The ^Aminds of ^G#mfools who ^F#mtwist the ^Erules, so ^Gyou can never ^Awin

^ABirmingham, ^C#mBirmingham, ^F#munder^Eneath your ^Dface There's ^F#mnothing ^Ebut a ^Dspace, you're hollow

Un^Alighted sky, ^Bmbegins to cry^D, the shabby coat is ^Aweak And ^Ahomes with ^G#mwindows ^F#mdressed in ^Ewarmth, and ^Dmouths that never speak^A His ^Amind is dead, his ^Bmvisions spread that ^Dpass before his ^Afeet And ^Athankfu^G#mlly he ^F#mwears that ^Edream that ^Gshields him from the ^Astreet^{D D A}

Good^Anight my friend^Bm, this is the end^D, you'll never cry a^Again You'll ^Anever ^G#mhave to ^F#msmile a^Eway the ^Gbastards and the pain^A Is ^Ait too late, or ^Bmcan you wait to ^Dtake another ^Aturn And ^Awalk to^G#mgether ^F#mdown that ^Eroad that ^Gleads to Birming^Aham

^ABirmingham, ^C#mBirmingham, ^F#munder^Eneath your ^Dface There's ^F#mnothing ^Ebut a ^Dspace, inside you

^ABirmingham, ^C#mBirmingham, ^F#munder^Eneath your ^Dface There's ^F#mnothing ^Ebut a ^Dspace

^Amaj7 You're ^Dmaj7hollow Amaj7 Dmaj7 Amaj7 Dmaj7