;Campfire In The Dark
;Paddy Houlihan
 
.   D                         G              Em
 My father rises early and he makes a cup of tea
.   A                  A7        G             D
 He lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me
.    D                          G               Em
 His days are often empty, he’s nothing much to do
.      A                 A7             G                  D
 So he sits and tells me stories of the travelling life he knew
 
.       Bm                                        G
 In the evening they would meet in lonely country lanes
.  Bm                              G
 A field away you'ld hear a collie bark
.           Bm                                      G
 And they’d pass the time away with talks about the day
.A                   G               Bm
 Standing 'round the campfire in the dark
.A                   G               Bm
 Standing 'round the campfire in the dark
 
 
 
.   D                               G             Em
 My mother likes the house, the hot water and the rooms
.     A           A7               G              D
 It's warm in the winter and she's handy with the broom
.    D                               G             Em
 Sometimes she makes Colcannon, more often Griddle Bread
.        A             A7             G                     D
 There's hunger deep inside her for a traveling life that’s dead
 
.       Bm                                             G
 In the evening she would lift the black pots from the coals
.  Bm                            G
 A bit to eat she always would remark
.           Bm                                            G
 There'd be vessels left to clean while children could be seen
.A                  G               Bm
 Playing 'round the campfire in the dark
.A                  G               Bm
 Playing 'round the campfire in the dark
 
 
 
.         D                        G                Em
 We'd go down to the pool hall to chat up the town beors
.    A              A7        G                  D
 Sometimes at their discos we can't get past the doors
.      D                              G             Em
 We're still tinkers to them and it's thrown at our ears
.      A               A7        G               D
 We're still the awful strangers after all these years
 
.      D                               G                Em
 And I think about my own life and the way that it will be
.   A             A7                G            D
 An Escort van, a bit of dealing, a wife and family
.D                            G                Em
 Thursday I collect the Dole, friday pitch and toss
.    A             A7              G                      D
 But on the site I think about the travellers' ways we've lost
 
.      Bm                                                  G
 And I wish that I could rise, wash the sleep out of these eyes
.    Bm                              G
 And listen to the sweet song of the lark
.      Bm                                    G
 And I wish that I could be in campfire company
.         A               G             Bm
 With the sound of horses moving in the dark
.         A               G             Bm
 With the sound of horses moving in the dark
.         A               G             Bm
 With the sound of horses moving in the dark