5.15 a.m.

Intro: E 
	 
E 
5.15 a.m.  
                      A 
snow laying all around  
 
a collier cycles home  
                               E 
from his night shift underground 
E 
past the silent pub 
 
primary school, workingmens club  
A 
on the road from the pithead  
     fis          
the churchyard packed  
             H7 
with mining dead 
 
E 
then beneath the bridge  
 
he comes to a giant car  
   A                      fis 
a shroud of snow upon the roof 
             E 
a mark ten jaguar 
A 
he thought the man was fast asleep 
E        
silent, still and deep 
                A                      
both dead and cold 
      fis 
shot through  
              H7 
with bullet holes 
 
fis                  cis  
the one armed bandit man 
                        A 
came north to fill his boots 
 
came up from cockneyland  
 
e-type jags and flashy suits 
fis 
put your money in  
 
pull the levers 
 
watch them spin 
A 
cash cows in all the pubs 
                               H7 
but he preferred the new nightclubs 
 
 
E 
nineteen sixty-seven 
                              A 
bandit men in birdcage heaven  
 
la dolce vita, sixty-nine 
                          E 
all new to people of the tyne 
 
E 
who knows who did what  
                                     
somebody made a call 
      A  
they said his hands  
            fis         
were in the pot 
                          E 
that he?d been skimming hauls 
fis 
he picks up the swag 
        
they gaily gave away 
A 
drives his giant jag  
 fis               H7 
off to his big pay day 
 
fis        cis 
the bandit man 
               A 
came north to fill his boots 
 
came up from cockneyland  
 
e-type jags and flashy suits 
fis 
the bandit man 
A 
came up the great north road 
                   
up to geordieland 
   fis 
to mine  
            H7 
the mother lode 
 
E 
seams blew up or cracked 
                            A 
black diamonds came hard won 
 
generations toiled and hacked  
                          E 
for a pittance and black lung 
fis 
crushed by tub or stone 
 
together and alone 
A 
how the young and old  
 
 
fis                H7 
paid the price of coal 
 
E 
eighteen sixty-seven 
                      A 
my angel?s gone to heaven 
 
he?ll be happy there 
                             E 
sunlight and sweet clean air 
 
E 
they gather round the glass  
                   A 
tough hewers and crutters 
 
child trappers and putters 
                             E 
the little foals and half-marrows 
A 
who pushed  
                cis 
and pulled the barrows 
A 
the hod boys  
               E 
and the rolleywaymen  
 
5.15 a.m.