When Margaret Was Eleven

G  C  G    C  G    C  G    C  G

   C                       G                       C
My father sailed away, the band played tunes of glory
  F              C                        G   F
A giant man with ribbons, bedevilled dignity
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A regimental sergeant, the backbone of the Empire
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For god and righteous glory, bound for High Germany

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Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
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They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
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"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

                                   G                  C
My childhood passed away midst the tales and lurid stories
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Of manufactured glories and inhuman gallantry
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I asked, "When is war over?", but no one deemed to answer me
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And Margaret played that dreaded tune called High Germany

      C                G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                 G    F
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

G  C  G    C  G    C  G    C  G

   C                           G                   C
My father made it home, but he came without his reason
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Two eyes of molten madness, a senseless fool of war
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"He's just a child," my mother cried, "to be dressed in full regalia
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And paraded as a hero, home from High Germany"

      C                G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                 G    F
They served us war for breakfast and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity

                       G          F             C      F
Sweet lord, I was just seven when Margaret was eleven
                       C                                       G    F
They served us war for breakfast, aye, and soldiers' songs for tea
                       C                F            C         F
"Your father's gone campaigning", was a way of not explaining
                      C                   G       C
That soldiers are the living proof of our inhumanity
         F              C         G            C
There'll be no tunes of glory for Margaret and me

Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.