Chords for Dick Gaughan - No Gods and Precious Few Heroes
Tempo:
92.6 bpm
Chords used:
E
B
A
C#m
F#m
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[E] [A] [E]
[A] [E] [A]
[B] [A] [B] [A] [B]
[A] [B] [E] [B]
[A] [B] [E]
[A] [E]
[A] I was [B] listening to the news the [E] other day, and the fat politician who had the [B] nerve to
say he [E] was proud to be [C#m] Scottish, by the way, for the glories [B] of our [E] past, I remember.
His test was like [B] us, listen to the cry, [E] no surrender to the truth, [B] and here's the reason
[A] why, the power and [E] the glories, [A] it is none of [E] our bloody lie, [F#m] they used to keep [B] us all
in line, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few heroes, for [Am] there's [E] plenty in
the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and it's time now, [A] to sweep [E] the future clear, [A] of the
[E] lies of a past, that we know is never real.
[B]
Say farewell to the heather [E] and the golem, they cleared us off once, and they'll do it
[B] all again, [E] for they still prefer sheep [C#m] to thinking men, but many [B] think like [E] sheep are even better.
[C#m] There's nothing much to choose, [B] between the old then and the new, [C#m] but still don't give
a damn, [B] for the likes of me and [E] you, just mind you pay your rent, [A] to the factor when
[E] it's due, [B] and mind your bloody manners when you pay, [Am] for there's [E] no gods, and there's
precious few heroes, [A] for there's [E] plenty in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's
time now, to sweep the future [A] clear, of the lies of [E] a past, that we know is never [A] real.
[B]
[A] [B] [E]
[A] [Em]
[A] Tell [B] me, will we [E] never hear the end, of poor bloody Charlie, at Culhwod and [Bm] Yerrick End,
though [E] he ran like a [C#m] rabbit down the glen, leaving [B] better folk than him [E] to be butchered,
[C#m] or are you sitting in your council [B] house, dreaming of your clan, [E] waiting for the Jacobites
to come and free the [B] land, [A] try going [E] down the broo, with your claymore in your [B] hand,
and count all the princes in the queue, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few
heroes, [A] for there's plenty [E] in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's time now,
to sweep the future clear, of [A] the lies [E] of a past, that we know is never real.
So don't talk to me of Scotland the brave, for if we're on fight soon, there'll be nothing
[B] left to save, or would [E] you rather stand and watch them dig [C#m] your grave, while you wait
for [B] the [E] tartan messiah, [C#m] he'll lead us to the promised land, the [B] laughter in his [C#m] eye,
while all upon the oil, [B] and the whiskey by [E] and by, three heavy [A] beer, five suppers in
[E] the sky, [F#m] we'll never have the sense, [B] to learn, [A] that there's no [E] gods, and there's precious
few heroes, but [A] there's plenty [E] in the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and I'm damn sure,
[A] that there's plenty in living [E] fear, [A] for the day [E] we stand together, with our shoulders at the wind,
[A] aye there's [E] no gods.
[N]
[A] [E] [A]
[B] [A] [B] [A] [B]
[A] [B] [E] [B]
[A] [B] [E]
[A] [E]
[A] I was [B] listening to the news the [E] other day, and the fat politician who had the [B] nerve to
say he [E] was proud to be [C#m] Scottish, by the way, for the glories [B] of our [E] past, I remember.
His test was like [B] us, listen to the cry, [E] no surrender to the truth, [B] and here's the reason
[A] why, the power and [E] the glories, [A] it is none of [E] our bloody lie, [F#m] they used to keep [B] us all
in line, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few heroes, for [Am] there's [E] plenty in
the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and it's time now, [A] to sweep [E] the future clear, [A] of the
[E] lies of a past, that we know is never real.
[B]
Say farewell to the heather [E] and the golem, they cleared us off once, and they'll do it
[B] all again, [E] for they still prefer sheep [C#m] to thinking men, but many [B] think like [E] sheep are even better.
[C#m] There's nothing much to choose, [B] between the old then and the new, [C#m] but still don't give
a damn, [B] for the likes of me and [E] you, just mind you pay your rent, [A] to the factor when
[E] it's due, [B] and mind your bloody manners when you pay, [Am] for there's [E] no gods, and there's
precious few heroes, [A] for there's [E] plenty in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's
time now, to sweep the future [A] clear, of the lies of [E] a past, that we know is never [A] real.
[B]
[A] [B] [E]
[A] [Em]
[A] Tell [B] me, will we [E] never hear the end, of poor bloody Charlie, at Culhwod and [Bm] Yerrick End,
though [E] he ran like a [C#m] rabbit down the glen, leaving [B] better folk than him [E] to be butchered,
[C#m] or are you sitting in your council [B] house, dreaming of your clan, [E] waiting for the Jacobites
to come and free the [B] land, [A] try going [E] down the broo, with your claymore in your [B] hand,
and count all the princes in the queue, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few
heroes, [A] for there's plenty [E] in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's time now,
to sweep the future clear, of [A] the lies [E] of a past, that we know is never real.
So don't talk to me of Scotland the brave, for if we're on fight soon, there'll be nothing
[B] left to save, or would [E] you rather stand and watch them dig [C#m] your grave, while you wait
for [B] the [E] tartan messiah, [C#m] he'll lead us to the promised land, the [B] laughter in his [C#m] eye,
while all upon the oil, [B] and the whiskey by [E] and by, three heavy [A] beer, five suppers in
[E] the sky, [F#m] we'll never have the sense, [B] to learn, [A] that there's no [E] gods, and there's precious
few heroes, but [A] there's plenty [E] in the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and I'm damn sure,
[A] that there's plenty in living [E] fear, [A] for the day [E] we stand together, with our shoulders at the wind,
[A] aye there's [E] no gods.
[N]
Key:
E
B
A
C#m
F#m
E
B
A
[E] _ _ _ _ [A] _ [E] _ _ _
_ [A] _ _ [E] _ _ _ [A] _ _
[B] _ [A] _ _ [B] _ [A] _ _ _ [B] _
_ _ [A] _ [B] _ _ [E] _ _ [B] _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ [B] _ _ [E] _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ _ [E] _ _
_ [A] I was [B] listening to the news the [E] other day, and the fat politician who had the [B] nerve to
say he [E] was proud to be [C#m] Scottish, by the way, for the glories [B] of our [E] past, I remember.
His test was like [B] us, listen to the cry, [E] no surrender to the truth, [B] and here's the reason
[A] why, the power and [E] the glories, [A] it is none of [E] our bloody lie, [F#m] they used to keep [B] us all
in line, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few heroes, for [Am] there's [E] plenty in
the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and it's time now, [A] to sweep [E] the future clear, [A] of the
[E] lies of a past, that we know is never real.
_ [B] _ _
Say farewell to the heather [E] and the golem, they cleared us off once, and they'll do it
[B] all again, [E] for they still prefer sheep [C#m] to thinking men, but many [B] think like [E] sheep are even better.
[C#m] There's nothing much to choose, [B] between the old then and the new, [C#m] but still don't give
a damn, [B] for the likes of me and [E] you, just mind you pay your rent, [A] to the factor when
[E] it's due, [B] and mind your bloody manners when you pay, [Am] for there's [E] no gods, and there's
precious few heroes, [A] for there's [E] plenty in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's
time now, to sweep the future [A] clear, of the lies of [E] a past, that we know is never [A] real.
_ [B] _
_ _ [A] _ _ [B] _ [E] _ _ _
_ _ _ [A] _ [Em] _ _ _ _
[A] Tell [B] me, will we [E] never hear the end, of poor bloody Charlie, at Culhwod and [Bm] Yerrick End,
though [E] he ran like a [C#m] rabbit down the glen, leaving [B] better folk than him [E] to be butchered,
[C#m] or are you sitting in your council [B] house, dreaming of your clan, [E] waiting for the Jacobites
to come and free the [B] land, [A] try going [E] down the broo, with your claymore in your [B] hand,
and count all the princes in the queue, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few
heroes, [A] for there's plenty [E] in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's time now,
to sweep the future clear, of [A] the lies [E] of a past, that we know is never real. _ _
So don't talk to me of Scotland the brave, for if we're on fight soon, there'll be nothing
[B] left to save, or would [E] you rather stand and watch them dig [C#m] your grave, while you wait
for [B] the [E] tartan messiah, [C#m] he'll lead us to the promised land, the [B] laughter in his [C#m] eye,
while all upon the oil, [B] and the whiskey by [E] and by, three heavy [A] beer, five suppers in
[E] the sky, [F#m] we'll never have the sense, [B] to learn, [A] that there's no [E] gods, and there's precious
few heroes, but [A] there's plenty [E] in the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and I'm damn sure,
[A] that there's plenty in living [E] fear, [A] for the day [E] we stand together, with our shoulders at the wind,
[A] aye there's [E] no gods. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
_ [A] _ _ [E] _ _ _ [A] _ _
[B] _ [A] _ _ [B] _ [A] _ _ _ [B] _
_ _ [A] _ [B] _ _ [E] _ _ [B] _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ [B] _ _ [E] _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ _ [E] _ _
_ [A] I was [B] listening to the news the [E] other day, and the fat politician who had the [B] nerve to
say he [E] was proud to be [C#m] Scottish, by the way, for the glories [B] of our [E] past, I remember.
His test was like [B] us, listen to the cry, [E] no surrender to the truth, [B] and here's the reason
[A] why, the power and [E] the glories, [A] it is none of [E] our bloody lie, [F#m] they used to keep [B] us all
in line, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few heroes, for [Am] there's [E] plenty in
the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and it's time now, [A] to sweep [E] the future clear, [A] of the
[E] lies of a past, that we know is never real.
_ [B] _ _
Say farewell to the heather [E] and the golem, they cleared us off once, and they'll do it
[B] all again, [E] for they still prefer sheep [C#m] to thinking men, but many [B] think like [E] sheep are even better.
[C#m] There's nothing much to choose, [B] between the old then and the new, [C#m] but still don't give
a damn, [B] for the likes of me and [E] you, just mind you pay your rent, [A] to the factor when
[E] it's due, [B] and mind your bloody manners when you pay, [Am] for there's [E] no gods, and there's
precious few heroes, [A] for there's [E] plenty in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's
time now, to sweep the future [A] clear, of the lies of [E] a past, that we know is never [A] real.
_ [B] _
_ _ [A] _ _ [B] _ [E] _ _ _
_ _ _ [A] _ [Em] _ _ _ _
[A] Tell [B] me, will we [E] never hear the end, of poor bloody Charlie, at Culhwod and [Bm] Yerrick End,
though [E] he ran like a [C#m] rabbit down the glen, leaving [B] better folk than him [E] to be butchered,
[C#m] or are you sitting in your council [B] house, dreaming of your clan, [E] waiting for the Jacobites
to come and free the [B] land, [A] try going [E] down the broo, with your claymore in your [B] hand,
and count all the princes in the queue, [A] for there's [E] no gods, and there's precious few
heroes, [A] for there's plenty [E] in the dough, [B] in the land of the old, [E] and it's time now,
to sweep the future clear, of [A] the lies [E] of a past, that we know is never real. _ _
So don't talk to me of Scotland the brave, for if we're on fight soon, there'll be nothing
[B] left to save, or would [E] you rather stand and watch them dig [C#m] your grave, while you wait
for [B] the [E] tartan messiah, [C#m] he'll lead us to the promised land, the [B] laughter in his [C#m] eye,
while all upon the oil, [B] and the whiskey by [E] and by, three heavy [A] beer, five suppers in
[E] the sky, [F#m] we'll never have the sense, [B] to learn, [A] that there's no [E] gods, and there's precious
few heroes, but [A] there's plenty [E] in the dough, in [B] the land of the old, [E] and I'm damn sure,
[A] that there's plenty in living [E] fear, [A] for the day [E] we stand together, with our shoulders at the wind,
[A] aye there's [E] no gods. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
Facts about this song