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Thousands Are Sailing

The Pogues
Version1
90

Chords in this song

Strum
D-DU-UDU
 Intro
 The island  it is silent now
 But the ghosts  still haunt the waves
 And the torch  lights up a famished  man
 Who fortune  could not save
Did  you work  upon the railroad
 Did you rid  the streets of crime
 Were your dollars  from the white  house
 Were they  from the five and dime
 Did the old  songs taunt or cheer you
 And did they  still make you cry
 Did you count  the months and years
 Or did your teardrops  quickly dry
 Ah, No,  says he 'twas not to be
 On a coffin  ship I came here
 And I never  even got  so far
 That they  could change my mind
Thousands  are still sailing
 Across  the Western Ocean
 To a land  of opportunity
 That some  of them will never  see
Fortune  prevailing
Across  the Western Ocean
 Their bellies  full
 And their spirits free
 They'll break  the chains of poverty
 And they'll dance
 In Manhattan's desert twilight
 In the death of afternoon
 We stepped hand in hand on Broadway
 Like the first man on the moon
 And "The Blackbird" broke the silence
 As you whistled it so sweet
 And in Brendan Behan's footsteps
 I danced up and down the street
 Then we said goodnight to Broadway
 Giving it our best regards
 Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan
 Dear old Times Square's favourite bard
 Then we raised a glass to J.F.K.
 And a dozen more besides
 When I got back to my empty room
 I suppose I must have cried
 Thousands are sailing
 Again across the ocean
 Where the hand of opportunity
 Draws tickets in a lottery
 Postcards we're mailing
 Of sky-blue skies and oceans
 From rooms the daylight never sees
 Where lights don't glow on Christmas trees
 But we dance to the music And we dance
 Thousands are sailing
 Across the Western Ocean
 Where the hand of opportunity
 Draws tickets in a lottery
 Where e'er we go, we celebrate
 The land that makes us refugees
 From fear of Priests with empty plates
 From guilt and weeping effigies
 And we dance
 D Fm E B /*repeat to fade*/

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Readable chord sheet for Thousands Are Sailing by The Pogues

Intro [F#m] [E] [Bm] [A]

The [A]island it is silent now
But the [D]ghosts still haunt the waves
And the [A]torch lights up a [F#m]famished man
Who [Bm]fortune could not save [E]

[E]Did you [A]work upon the railroad
Did you [D]rid the streets of crime
Were your [A]dollars from the white[F#m]  house
Were [E]they from the five and dime [A]
Did the [F#m]old songs taunt or cheer you
And did [D]they still make you cry [A]
Did you [F#m]count the months and years
Or did your tear[Bm]drops quickly dry [E]
Ah, [A]No, says he 'twas not to be
On a [D]coffin ship I came here
And I [A]never even [F#m]got so far
That [E]they could change my mind [A]

[F#m]Thousands are still sailing
A[E]cross the Western [Bm]Ocean
To a [F#m]land of opportunity
That [E]some of them will [Bm]never see
[F#m]Fortune prevailing
[E]Across the Western [Bm]Ocean
Their [F#m]bellies full

And their spirits free
They'll [E]break the chains of [Bm]poverty
And they'll [D]dance [F#m]      [E]        [B]          [D]            [F#m]                [E]                  [B]

[F#m] [Bm]   [F#m] [D]   [A] [E]  [A] [E] [A]

In Manhattan's desert twilight
In the death of afternoon
We stepped hand in hand on Broadway
Like the first man on the moon
And "The Blackbird" broke the silence
As you whistled it so sweet
And in Brendan Behan's footsteps
I danced up and down the street

Then we said goodnight to Broadway
Giving it our best regards
Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan
Dear old Times Square's favourite bard
Then we raised a glass to J.F.K.
And a dozen more besides
When I got back to my empty room
I suppose I must have cried

Thousands are sailing
Again across the ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Postcards we're mailing
Of sky-blue skies and oceans
From rooms the daylight never sees
Where lights don't glow on Christmas trees
But we dance to the music And we dance

Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Where e'er we go, we celebrate
The land that makes us refugees
From fear of Priests with empty plates
From guilt and weeping effigies
And we dance

D F

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