Chords for Michael
Tempo:
102.25 bpm
Chords used:
F#
C#
B
G#m
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
The Curlew stood silent and unseen in the long, damp grass, and he looked down on the road below
him that wound its way through Bailnablaw, and he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
running backwards and forwards, dodging and weaving and ducking the bullets that rained down
on them from the hillside opposite.
Just as quickly as it started, the firing stopped,
and a terrible silence hung over the valley.
A lone figure lay on the roadside
in the drizzling August rain, dressed in green greatcoat, leggings, and brown hobnail [B] boots
that would never again set the sparks flying from the kitchen flagstones,
as he danced his way through a half-set.
A hurried, whispered act of contrition,
and the firing breaks out again.
[G#m] The Curlew takes to flight, and as he flies out over the empty,
sad fields of West Cork, with his lonesome [C#] call, he must tell the world that the big fellow has [B] fallen,
and that Michael is gone.
On the [F#] far-off August day, cold young men in ambush [F#] lay
on the roadside by a hill where flowers [C#] grow.
So much hate for one so young,
[B] who was right and who [F#] was wrong.
Though a thousand years [C#] may pass, we'll never [F#] know.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
And when evening, twilight came,
[B] gently fell the autumn
rain.
Oh, but you lay still and silent on [C#] the ground, as [F#] we hung our heads in prayer,
[B] in our sorrow and [F#] despair, we wondered, was it friend or [C#] foe who shot you down?
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on [F#] your
fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
[C#]
[F#]
Now the flame that you held high, [B] when you called out
from the [F#] sky, to end this senseless killing, [C#] and this shame, [F#] has now passed to other hands,
[B] and is carried through [F#] the land by some not [C#] fit to even speak your [F#] name.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
Michael, [C#] in their hour of need, why did [F#] you go?
[N]
him that wound its way through Bailnablaw, and he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
running backwards and forwards, dodging and weaving and ducking the bullets that rained down
on them from the hillside opposite.
Just as quickly as it started, the firing stopped,
and a terrible silence hung over the valley.
A lone figure lay on the roadside
in the drizzling August rain, dressed in green greatcoat, leggings, and brown hobnail [B] boots
that would never again set the sparks flying from the kitchen flagstones,
as he danced his way through a half-set.
A hurried, whispered act of contrition,
and the firing breaks out again.
[G#m] The Curlew takes to flight, and as he flies out over the empty,
sad fields of West Cork, with his lonesome [C#] call, he must tell the world that the big fellow has [B] fallen,
and that Michael is gone.
On the [F#] far-off August day, cold young men in ambush [F#] lay
on the roadside by a hill where flowers [C#] grow.
So much hate for one so young,
[B] who was right and who [F#] was wrong.
Though a thousand years [C#] may pass, we'll never [F#] know.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
And when evening, twilight came,
[B] gently fell the autumn
rain.
Oh, but you lay still and silent on [C#] the ground, as [F#] we hung our heads in prayer,
[B] in our sorrow and [F#] despair, we wondered, was it friend or [C#] foe who shot you down?
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on [F#] your
fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
[C#]
[F#]
Now the flame that you held high, [B] when you called out
from the [F#] sky, to end this senseless killing, [C#] and this shame, [F#] has now passed to other hands,
[B] and is carried through [F#] the land by some not [C#] fit to even speak your [F#] name.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside [B] your shoulder.
[C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your fingers.
Friends and comrades standing by, [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go.
Michael, [C#] in their hour of need, why did [F#] you go?
[N]
Key:
F#
C#
B
G#m
F#
C#
B
G#m
The Curlew stood silent and unseen in the long, damp grass, _ and he looked down on the road below
him that wound its way through Bailnablaw, _ _ and he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
running backwards and forwards, dodging and weaving and ducking the bullets that rained down
on them from the hillside opposite. _ _ _
Just as quickly as it started, the firing stopped, _ _
and a terrible silence hung over the valley. _
_ _ _ A lone figure lay on the roadside
in the drizzling August rain, _ _ dressed in green greatcoat, leggings, and brown hobnail [B] boots
that would never again set the sparks flying from the kitchen flagstones,
as he danced his way through a half-set. _
_ _ A hurried, whispered act of contrition,
and the firing breaks out again.
[G#m] _ The Curlew takes to flight, and as he flies out over the empty,
sad fields of West Cork, with his lonesome [C#] call, he must tell the world that the big fellow has [B] fallen,
_ and that Michael _ is gone. _ _ _ _
On the [F#] far-off August day, cold young men in ambush [F#] lay _
on the roadside by a hill where flowers [C#] grow. _ _ _ _ _
So much hate for one so young, _
[B] who was right and who [F#] was wrong. _ _
Though a thousand years [C#] may pass, we'll never [F#] know. _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your _ shoulder. _ _
_ [C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your _ fingers. _ _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, _ Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _ _
And when evening, twilight came, _
_ [B] gently fell the autumn
rain. _
Oh, but you lay still and silent on [C#] the ground, _ _ _ _ as [F#] we hung our heads in prayer, _
[B] in our sorrow and [F#] despair, we wondered, was it friend or [C#] foe who shot you down? _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your _ shoulder. _ _
_ [C#] Rosary beads _ like teardrops on [F#] your
_ fingers. _ _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] _ in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _
_ _ [C#] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Now the flame that you held high, _ [B] when you called out
from the [F#] sky, _ to end this senseless killing, _ [C#] and this shame, _ _ _ _ [F#] has now passed to other hands, _
[B] and is carried through [F#] the land by some not [C#] fit to even speak your [F#] name. _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your shoulder. _ _
_ _ [C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your _ _ fingers. _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _
Michael, [C#] in their hour of need, why did [F#] you go? _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
him that wound its way through Bailnablaw, _ _ and he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
running backwards and forwards, dodging and weaving and ducking the bullets that rained down
on them from the hillside opposite. _ _ _
Just as quickly as it started, the firing stopped, _ _
and a terrible silence hung over the valley. _
_ _ _ A lone figure lay on the roadside
in the drizzling August rain, _ _ dressed in green greatcoat, leggings, and brown hobnail [B] boots
that would never again set the sparks flying from the kitchen flagstones,
as he danced his way through a half-set. _
_ _ A hurried, whispered act of contrition,
and the firing breaks out again.
[G#m] _ The Curlew takes to flight, and as he flies out over the empty,
sad fields of West Cork, with his lonesome [C#] call, he must tell the world that the big fellow has [B] fallen,
_ and that Michael _ is gone. _ _ _ _
On the [F#] far-off August day, cold young men in ambush [F#] lay _
on the roadside by a hill where flowers [C#] grow. _ _ _ _ _
So much hate for one so young, _
[B] who was right and who [F#] was wrong. _ _
Though a thousand years [C#] may pass, we'll never [F#] know. _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your _ shoulder. _ _
_ [C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your _ fingers. _ _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, _ Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _ _
And when evening, twilight came, _
_ [B] gently fell the autumn
rain. _
Oh, but you lay still and silent on [C#] the ground, _ _ _ _ as [F#] we hung our heads in prayer, _
[B] in our sorrow and [F#] despair, we wondered, was it friend or [C#] foe who shot you down? _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your _ shoulder. _ _
_ [C#] Rosary beads _ like teardrops on [F#] your
_ fingers. _ _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] _ in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _
_ _ [C#] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Now the flame that you held high, _ [B] when you called out
from the [F#] sky, _ to end this senseless killing, _ [C#] and this shame, _ _ _ _ [F#] has now passed to other hands, _
[B] and is carried through [F#] the land by some not [C#] fit to even speak your [F#] name. _ _ _ _ _
Candles dripping blood, _ they placed beside [B] your shoulder. _ _
_ _ [C#] Rosary beads like teardrops on
[F#] your _ _ fingers. _
Friends and comrades standing by, _ [B] in their grief they wonder why, Michael,
[C#] in their hour of need, you had [F#] to go. _ _ _ _
Michael, [C#] in their hour of need, why did [F#] you go? _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _