Bm
Welcome, my son,
A
To where the work is never done
F# G
And the hungry are seldom ever fed.
Bm
The department of false hope
A
Is a proving ground for dopes.
D E F#
And they'll grind your tiny bones to make their bread. (Hosanna.)
G D A F# C# D
So hold your head up high, forgotten man.
G D A F# C# D
Tomorrow won't be made for you.
G D A F# C# D
And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.
G A D
For god and man, there's nothing more to do.
Bm
It crackled on the radio
A
Through bright plumes of the sun.
F# G
The announcer said the age of faith was dead.
Bm
Though the adolescent nation
A
Was just looking for salvation,
D E F#
The beast of reason reared its ugly head. (Hosanna.)
G D A F# C# D
So hold your head up high, forgotten man.
G D A F# C# D
Tomorrow's not for me and you.
G D A F# C# D
And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.
G A D
For god and man, there's nothing more to do.
Bm
A
F# G
Bm
A
D E F#
G
From your cradle of destruction,
A
With the poorest of instruction
Bm A G
And the merest sliver of a tune,
F# C# D
Oh, you managed somehow to muddle through.
G D A F# C# D
So hold your head up high, forgotten man.
G D A F# C# D
Tomorrow's not for me and you.
G D A F# C# D
And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand.
G A D Bm
For god and man, there's nothing more to do.
G A
There is nothing more...
