Chords for Sailor's Prayer by Johnny Collins
Tempo:
110.65 bpm
Chords used:
Eb
Bb
Gm
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
This dirty town has been my home since last time I was sailing, but I'll not stay another day, I'd sooner be a-whaling.
O Lord above, send down a dove [Eb] With beak as sharp as [Bb]
razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What [N] sells bad beer to sailors.
Paid off me score and then ashore, Me money soon was flying, With duty lay upon me knee, And in my ear a-lying.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm [Bb] the throats of them dead blokes What [Gm] sells bad beer to sailors.
With me new-found friends, [N] me money spends Just as fast as winking, But when I make to clear the slate, The landlord says, keep drinking.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
With me pay off gone and clothes in pawn, And duty set for a-leaving, Six months of pay's gone in three days, But duty isn't grieving.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound, And his hand I'll be shaking, Tomorrow morn sail for the horn, Just as the dawn is breaking.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
Yes, for one last trip from port I'll ship, But next time back I'm swearing, I'll settle down in my hometown, No more I'll go seafaring.
O Lord above, send down [Eb] a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, [N] To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
O Lord above, send down a dove [Eb] With beak as sharp as [Bb]
razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What [N] sells bad beer to sailors.
Paid off me score and then ashore, Me money soon was flying, With duty lay upon me knee, And in my ear a-lying.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm [Bb] the throats of them dead blokes What [Gm] sells bad beer to sailors.
With me new-found friends, [N] me money spends Just as fast as winking, But when I make to clear the slate, The landlord says, keep drinking.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
With me pay off gone and clothes in pawn, And duty set for a-leaving, Six months of pay's gone in three days, But duty isn't grieving.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound, And his hand I'll be shaking, Tomorrow morn sail for the horn, Just as the dawn is breaking.
O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
Yes, for one last trip from port I'll ship, But next time back I'm swearing, I'll settle down in my hometown, No more I'll go seafaring.
O Lord above, send down [Eb] a dove With beak as sharp as razor's, [N] To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
Key:
Eb
Bb
Gm
Eb
Bb
Gm
Eb
Bb
_ This dirty town has been my home since last time I was sailing, _ but I'll not stay another day, I'd sooner be a-whaling.
_ _ O Lord above, send down a dove [Eb] With beak as sharp as [Bb] _
razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What [N] sells bad beer to sailors.
_ _ Paid off me score and then ashore, Me money soon was flying, With duty lay upon me knee, And in my ear a-lying.
_ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm [Bb] the throats of them dead blokes What [Gm] sells bad beer to sailors.
_ With me new-found friends, [N] me money spends Just as fast as winking, But when I make to clear the slate, The landlord _ says, keep drinking.
_ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
With me pay off gone and clothes in pawn, And duty set for a-leaving, _ Six months of pay's gone in three days, But duty _ _ isn't grieving.
_ O _ Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound, And his hand I'll be shaking, _ Tomorrow morn sail for the horn, Just as the dawn is breaking.
_ _ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ Yes, for one last trip from port I'll ship, But next time back I'm swearing, _ I'll settle down in my hometown, No more I'll go _ seafaring. _
_ O Lord above, send down [Eb] a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, [N] To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ O Lord above, send down a dove [Eb] With beak as sharp as [Bb] _
razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What [N] sells bad beer to sailors.
_ _ Paid off me score and then ashore, Me money soon was flying, With duty lay upon me knee, And in my ear a-lying.
_ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm [Bb] the throats of them dead blokes What [Gm] sells bad beer to sailors.
_ With me new-found friends, [N] me money spends Just as fast as winking, But when I make to clear the slate, The landlord _ says, keep drinking.
_ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
With me pay off gone and clothes in pawn, And duty set for a-leaving, _ Six months of pay's gone in three days, But duty _ _ isn't grieving.
_ O _ Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound, And his hand I'll be shaking, _ Tomorrow morn sail for the horn, Just as the dawn is breaking.
_ _ O Lord above, send down a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ Yes, for one last trip from port I'll ship, But next time back I'm swearing, _ I'll settle down in my hometown, No more I'll go _ seafaring. _
_ O Lord above, send down [Eb] a dove With beak as sharp as _ razor's, [N] To calm the throats of them dead blokes What sells bad beer to sailors.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _