#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------##
STREETS OF LONDON
(Trad., Arr. Ralph McTell)

The hardest thing about this tune is not the music - which is basically simple
4/4 with alternating bass for each chord - but the timing while singing the
choruses and the last verse.  I've tried to indicate phrasing by commas and
line spacing, and I repeat chords when they cover two measures.  Maybe it's
not *that* difficult, after all. :-)  If you're really stuck, find someone
from "back home" to sing it for you.

A truly beautiful, three-hanky tune.

VERSE:

C (x32010@1)               G (320003@1)      Am (x02210@1)               EmHave (022000@1)you seen the old man, in the closed-down market
F (133211@1)            C (x32010@1)              D7 (xx0212@1)     G7picking (320001@1)up the papers, with his worn-out shoes?
C (x32010@1)             G (320003@1)           Am (x02210@1)             EmIn (022000@1)his eyes you see no pride, and held loosely by his side
F (133211@1)         C (x32010@1)             G7 (320001@1)        Cyesterday's (x32010@1)papers, telling yesterday's news


CHORUS:

C (x32010@1)    F (133211@1)         Em (022000@1)            C (x32010@1)       Am (x02210@1)   So how can you tell me, you're lo - ne - ly
D7 (xx0212@1)          D7 (xx0212@1)                   G (320003@1)    G7 (320001@1) and say for you that the sun don't shine?
C (x32010@1)             G (320003@1)              Am (x02210@1)                 EmLet (022000@1)me take you by the hand, and lead you through the streets of London
F (133211@1)             C (x32010@1)           G7 (320001@1)                 C (x32010@1)    C (x32010@1) I'll show you something, to make you change your mind


OTHER VERSES:

Have you seen the old gal, who walks the streets of London
dirt in her hair, and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home, in two carrier bags

And in the all-night cafe, at a quarter past eleven
some old man sitting there, all on his own
Looking at the world, over the rim of his tea-cup
Each day lasts an hour, then he wanders home alone

And have you seen the old man, outside the seaman's mission?
His memory's fading, with those medal ribbons that he wears
And in our winter city, the rain cries little pity
For one more forgotten hero, and a world that doesn't care

submitted by:
Ted Hermary
czth@musica.mcgill.ca