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Harry made a bareback rider   proud and free upon a horse
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And a fine coalminer for the NCB that was 
 
A fallen angel and Jesus on the cross 

A skating ballerina you should have seen her do the skater's waltz 
 
Some people have got to paint and draw 

Harry had to work iin clay and stone 

Like the waves coming to the shore 

It was in his blood and in his bones 

Ignored by all the trendy boys in London and in Leeds 
 

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Refrao: He might as well have been making toys     or strings of beads 
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        He could'nt be.. He could'nt be.       in the gallery 
 
And then you get an artist says he doesn't want to paint at all 

He takes an empty canvas and sticks it on the wall 

The birds of a feather all the phonies and all of the fakes 

While the dealers they get together 

And they decide who gets the breaks 

And who's going to be in the gallery 
 
(Solo)
  
No lies he wouldn't compromise 

No junk no bits of string 

And all the lies we subsidise 

That just don't mean a thing 

I've got to say he passed away in obscurity 

And now all the vultures are coming down from the tree 

So he's going to be in the gallery 
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