• Song:

    Children

  • Artist:

    The Mavericks

  • Album:

    Collection

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Intro: Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5  Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5  (x2)
 
  Bb5            Eb5           Bb5       F5 
A child who was raised by an unworthy hand, 
    Bb5        Eb5        Bb5      F5 
Has less of a chance of being a man. 
     Bb5       Eb5         Bb5        F5 
Well try to remember and then understand, 
      Bb5           Eb5            Bb5          F5 
Why a mother would cry while her husband lay dead. 
     Bb5          Eb5       Bb5      F5 
Shot down by the gun of a runaway train, 
       Bb5          Eb5            Bb5           F5 
'Cause life in the fast lane, it all ends the same. 
         Bb5              Eb5               Bb5       F5 
Well the same children's lives, they will always regret, 
        Eb5           F5       Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5  Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
Are the children who never forget. 


  Bb5          Eb5        Bb5       F5       
A man ends up tired and walking alone, 
     Bb5            Eb5            Bb5      F5 
On a street corner singing for a penny a song. 
        Bb5       Eb5          Bb5        F5 
What he cannot remember, was never his own, 
          Bb5        Eb5           Bb5            F5 
Thats the answer he gave when he speaks of his home. 
         Bb5            Eb5           Bb5      F5 
Well the streets of my life I don't know anymore, 
          Bb5           Eb5              Bb5         F5 
Where the children are junkies and the ladies are whores. 
         Bb5              Eb5               Bb5       F5 
Well the same children's lives, they will always regret, 
        Eb5           F5       Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
Are the children who never forget. 
 

Bb5  Eb5         Bb5          F5 
Goodnight, goodnight sweet child. 
              Bb5             Eb5            Bb5        F5 
Why don't you dream with the angels, to forget for a while? 
      Bb5         Eb5               Bb5        F5 
To forget of the life, thats been handed to you, 
      Bb5           Eb5        Bb5         F5 
Where everything's real, yet nothing is true. 
        Bb5           Eb5              Bb5           F5 
Well perhaps you can change what the cards always read, 
        Eb5           F5       Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5  Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
For the children who never forget. 


Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5  Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
INSTRUMENTAL 


      Bb5             Eb5           Bb5          F5 
For a time they were counting you out of this race, 
          Bb5        Eb5                Bb5          F5 
You stood up like a champion that had fallen with grace. 
      Bb5          Eb5           Bb5           F5 
Never showing the anguish that covered your face, 
         Bb5           Eb5              Bb5        F5 
You were raped and forgotten, left to die in disgrace. 
     Bb5          Eb5       Bb5      F5 
Shot down by the gun of a runaway train, 
       Bb5          Eb5            Bb5           F5 
'Cause life in the fast lane, it all ends the same. 
         Bb5              Eb5               Bb5       F5 
Well the same children's lives, they will always regret, 
        Eb5           F5       Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
Are the children who never forget. 


Bb5  Eb5         Bb5          F5 
Goodnight, goodnight sweet child. 
              Bb5             Eb5            Bb5        F5 
Why don't you dream with the angels, to forget for a while? 
      Bb5         Eb5               Bb5        F5 
To forget of the life, thats been handed to you, 
      Bb5           Eb5        Bb5         F5 
Where everything's real, yet nothing is true. 
        Bb5           Eb5              Bb5           F5 
Well perhaps you can change what the cards always read, 
        Eb5           F5       Bb5  Eb5  Bb5  F5 
For the children who never forget. 


Bb5  Eb5         Bb5          F5 
Goodnight, goodnight sweet child. 
              Bb5             Eb5            Bb5        F5 
Why don't you dream with the angels, to forget for a while? 
      Bb5         Eb5               Bb5        F5 
To forget of the life, thats been handed to you, 
      Bb5           Eb5        Bb5         F5 
Where everything's real, yet nothing is true. 
 
*(repeat to fade)*
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