Song On The Times

Gm

G           Gm
You working men of England one moment now attend
                                     Dm
While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this land
 Gm              F        Eb                      D
For nowadays the factory lords have brought the labour low
   Gm                              Cm       Dm     Gm
And daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow

Gm                          F    Eb          Cm        D
So arouse! You sons of freedom! The world seems upside down
    Gm                                Cm      Dm     Gm
They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in town

Gm
There's different parts in Ireland, it's true what I do state

There's hundreds that are starving for they can't get food to eat
                                Eb            D    Dm
And if they go unto the rich to ask them for relief
 Gm                                     Cm        Dm      Gm
They bang their door all in their face as if they were a thief

Gm                          F    Eb          Cm        D    F
So arouse! You sons of freedom! The world seems upside down
Dm   Gm                               Cm      Dm     Gm
They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in town

Gm                                   C     Dm        Gm
Alas how altered are the times, rich men despise the poor
Gm                                Cm             Dm       Gm
And pay them off without remorse, quite scornful at their door
F   Gm                 F        Eb            D
And if a man is out of work his Parish pay is small
Gm                                  Cm      Dm       Gm
Enough to starve himself and wife, his children and all

Gm                          F    Eb                    D
So arouse! You sons of freedom! The world seems upside down
Gm                                    C              Gm
They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in town

Gm                                  F             Gm
So to conclude and finish these few verses I have made
Gm                             Cm                   Gm
I hope to see before it's long men for their labour paid
Gm                       F                  Eb             D
Then we'll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes
Gm                        C                    Gm
Before we do old England must pay us what she owes

Gm                          F    Eb                    D
So arouse! You sons of freedom! The world seems upside down
Gm                                    C      Dm      Gm G5
They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in town