The Faded Mansion On The Hill

Intro : Dm / / / A(7) / / / Bb / / / Eb / / / A(7) / / / Dm / / / A7...

         Dm                          A7
When you see what can't be helped go by

With bloody murder in its eye

                   Eb             F
And the mouth of a man put on the rack

               A7           Dm       A7
The voice of a man about to crack

         Dm                      A7      
When you see the litter of their lives

The stupid children, bitter wives

Your self-esteem in disarray

You do your best to climb away

                   A       A7      D      Am7/D
From the streaming traffic    of decay.

Gm                           Bb  C     Bb   C    F
Believing, if you will, that all these sick hate days

                   Cm    Bb   C7
Are just a kind of trick Fate plays

                      Bbm  F Dm
But still behind your shaded eyes

                       Gm    Dm     A       A7
That mind-constricting thick weight stays

When on the outskirts of the town 

comes bumping cavernously down 

Bb                   Eb
Out of the brick gateways

               F              A
From the faded mansion on the hill

The out-of-date black Cadillac

With the old man crumpled in the back

Dm                    A7                D       Am7/D
That Time has not yet found the time to kill.

G           Dm6              Em       B7                Em          G7 / / / C
Between the headlands to the sea, the fleeing yachts of summer go

C                 B7                    Em        Em7sus4 - A
White as a sheet    and faster than the    driven snow

     C                     B7                          E           C/D    D
Like dolphins riding high    and giant seabirds flying low.

     G     Dm6           Em         B7                   Em         G7 / / / C
And square    across the wind   the cats and wingsails   pull ahead

                B7                 Em           Em7Sus4 - A
Living their day   as if it almost     could be said

    C                B7                                     E    E7
The cemetery of home   could somehow soon be left for dead.

A                                         C#m7
But the graveyard of tall ships is really here,

                              DMaj7                   E9
Where the grass breaks up the driveway more each year

    F#m                      E    Bm/D
And here is all these people have    

                             E    Bm/D
And everything they can't believe

The beach the poor men never reach, 

              Bm/D           A     Am7/D   D7
The shore the rich men never leave.

  G         Dm6                Em      B7                      Em     G7
Between the headlands from the sea the homing yachts of summer fill

C                         B7                 Em              Em7sus4   A
The night with shouts and     falling sails,    and then are still

C                  B7                           Em    A
The avenues wind up    into the darkness of the hill

      Cmaj7       B7                         Em    C   Bm7sus4   E.
Where Time tonight    might find the time to kill.


(Transcription by Gerald Smith, with suggestions from Pete Atkin.
Note that Pete plays this song one whole tone lower in pitch -- S.)
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