From: rickl1@ix.netcom.com Richard Shindell Sparrows Point written by Richard Shindell C#m E B C#m C#m E B C#m My name is William Taylor C#m E B C#m E B C#m I was born in twenty four Too late to know the great fallen C#m E B But in time to know the great fall B A E B C#m When my father died of money C#m A E B My mother lived in spite B A E B C#m We laughed when nothing was funny C#m E B But how we wept when nothing was left B C#m E B C#m So I left her there in boom town C#m E B When I reached fifteen years B C#m E B C#m And I travelled mostly northeast C#m E B With my head held mostly down B A E B C#m Cause they said there was more in Baltimore C#m A E B Where those shipyards never close B A E B C#m You can sell the man your labor C#m E B C#m E B C#m Send the money home Broadway found me pennyless C#m E B And the mission found me last B C#m E B C#m They gave me a coat and three days rest C#m E B A E B C#m And when I awoke and left a shroud of steam surrounded me C#m A E B And I was born away A E B C#m I found myself at Sparrows Point C#m E B With a sling-shot in my hand B C#m E B C#m E B And standing there around me Two thousand idle hands B C#m E With their heads bowed low B C#m Their hopes not high C#m E B Their hearts weaned of their homes B A E B C#m And their pockets full of photographs C#m A E B And their eyes full of goodbyes B A E B C#m I took my place among my kind C#m E B And I held my place in line B C#m E B C#m Now I'm twenty one and well employed C#m E B And I send home most my pay B C#m E B C#m Which leaves plenty left for cigarettes C#m E B To help me pass the days B A E B C#m With beloved friends surrounding me C#m A E B The cold street so far away A E B C#m Three days west of Normandy C#m E B With a rifle in my hand From Richard Shindell "Live At The Postcrypt Coffeehouse" Columbia University Fast Folk Records 1992 FF CD 509