Campfire In The Dark

	  		
Intro: 
G Bm G 
A G Bm 
A G Bm 

Verse 
     D                         G             Em 
My father rises early and he makes a sup 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                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’ll hear a collie bark. 
           Bm                      G 
And they’d pass the time away with talks about the day, 
  A                  G 
standing round the campfire in the dark, 
  A                  G 
standing round the campfire in the dark 


Verse 
   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                D 
there’s a hunger deep inside her for the travelling life thas dead 


         Bm                         G 
In the evening she would lift the black pot 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 
playing round the campfire in the dark 
  A                  G 
playing round the campfire in the dark. 


Verse 
     D                            G                 Em 
We’d go down to the pool hall to chat up the town boers, 
    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 even after all these years 

Verse 
       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 a 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 traveller’s way we’ve lost. 

Verse 
       Bm                               G                   Em 
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 
with the sound of horses moving in the dark, 
          A                G 
with the sound of horses moving in the dark, 
          A                G 
with the sound of horses moving moving in the dark.