Capo V
E (trumpet solo)

G F ( E )
When a room becomes an altar 
             
And what beast that must exist 
                Dm6 
It flies with music from our lips
               F
And steals a kiss and blows it 
Dm6             E
Out into the mist 

Where castles stand on cliffs 
And cobbled streets they wind and drift 
     Dm6  
And moods are made and set but shift 
      F
This place where skies are low 
Dm6          E
And birds are big 

We went to sleep in day 

And woke again the same day 
          Dm6 
We have learned to cheat the time 
               F
And find the hours 
          Dm6             E
That the clocks cannot define 

As I looked up from that stage 
                                Dm6
I felt the thing that had been made 

And how it raged 
            F
And how it raged 

         Dm
How to explain? 
Something makes me howl 
        G7
And shiver to the core 
        Am
Ah outside if it was raining 
         F               G
Then inside there'd be a storm 
              Am
We've got a pair of hands for climbing 
              F               G
And a pair of knees to spring 
        Am
And a pair of balls for strength 
               F               G
And a pair of lungs to sing 
         Am
And these simple chords 
                 F        ( F )           G
That say: music is the language of us all 


Am    E  Am (x4) E... 


G  F                 E                       
    To write these songs is to be written 

Ah the chorus always knows 
              Dm6
What is in store 
                                   F
And what is more the thing that sings us 
   Dm6                        E
Is the thing that makes us roar 

I felt that beast 'kisso my neck 

We clapped our hands 
                F
And heard them spread 
                        Dm6
There was a trumpet and a call 
   F                               E     
A pack of Spaniards screamed for more 
Music is the language of us all 
Music is the language of us all 
Music is the language of us all 
Music is the language of us all 


Am    E  Am (x12) E... 
 
          Dm
I find it hard to speak emotional 
           G7
Cos these things are the things that 
          C
Can't be said 

And when it's struck it strikes 
        F            G
The memory from our heads 
 Am       
Once I wrote to play's 
        F             G
To be immortal for a night 
     Am
And despite the unknown hours 
            F
Something happens 
          G                   C 
When the light turns out the lights 
                    Am
Then we fade and yawn 
      F                            G
To music that's the language of us all 

HAYMAN