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25th January 2001, 8.19pm
THANKFULLY NOT LIVING IN YORKSHIRE IT DOESN’T APPLY by DEXYS MIDNIGHT RUNNERS
Written by Kevin Rowland and Pete Saunders
From ‘Searching For The Young Soul Rebels’ (Parlophone, 1980)
Some of the lyrics are still indechipherable despite the lyric sheet
but I’ve done the best I can.
Chords used:
A: 577655 E: x7999x
F#: 244322 D: x5777x
D: 10-12-12-11-10-10 G: 355433-|
C#m: 9-11-11-9-9-9 E: 022100-|
F#m: x-9-11-11-10-9 C#m: x46654-|
A
I’ve never seen but I still believe it
F#
I’d like to dig it out or maybe wrench it out
A
There’s no touching
F#
But there’s not much involved in casting doubt
Too hard to think about.
D C#m
I’d relate my thoughts to you
F#m E D
But I’m not that stupid to put my faith in you.
A D G D
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh_________
A D G D
Ooh-ooh ah-ah I’ll keep searching even more.
A D G D E
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh_________
A
Lord have mercy on me
Keep me away from Leeds
F#
I’ve been before; it’s not what I’m looking for
A
There’s no touching
F#
But there’s not much involved in casting doubt
No need to think about.
D C#m
I’d relate my thoughts to you
F#m E D
But I’m not that stupid to put my faith in you.
A D G D
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh___________
A D G D
Ooh-ooh ah-ah Lord, I’m searching, searching
A D G D
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh been looking here for more.
A D G D E
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh___________
A
I’ve walked around, seen the town with the crowds
C#m
With their frowns on their faces
And occasional traces of doubt
A
I’ve walked about, worked it out, pissed about
C#m
Tried to shout,
Cm
No one’s listening.
Bm
It’s all you your rules and fools.
D E
And it’s all you and your schools their tools, then.
Lord have mercy on me
Keep me away from Leeds
I’ve been before; not what I’m looking for
There’s no touching
But there’s not much involved in casting doubt
No need to think about.
I’d relate my thoughts to you,
But I’m not that stupid to put my faith in you.
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh_____________
Ooh-ooh ah-ah Lord, been looking, looking here for more.
Ooh-ooh ah-ah ooh_____________
I’ve walked around, seen the town with the crowds
With their frowns on their faces
And occasional traces of doubt
I’ve walked about, worked it out, pissed about
Tried to shout,
No one’s listening.
It’s all you and your rules and fools.
And it’s all you and your discos, your fists don’t count, count.
Chorus to fade.
