F#m


                F#m
                The fishing boats go out across the evening water
                D
                Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
                    Bm
                The winds whip up the waves so loud
                    A                 G
                The ghost moon sails among the clouds
                    F#m              E           F#m
                And turns the rifles into silver on the border


                F#m
                On my wall the colours of the maps are running
                     D
                From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming
                    Bm
                The torches flair up in the night
                    A                  G
                The hand that sets the farms alight
                    F#m                E                    F#m
                Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border


                A
                In the vllage where I grew up
                Em
                Nothing seems the same
                              D                                A
                But still you never see the change from day to day
                           D                        C#   [C# B A G# F# F = single notes] 
                And no one notices the customs slip away

                F#m


                F#m
                Late last night the rain was knocking on my window
                  D
                I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
                  Bm
                I thought I saw down in the street
                    A             G
                The spirit of the century
                F#m             E                  F#m
                Telling us that we're all standing on the border


                A
                In the islands where I grew up
                Em
                Nothing seems the same
                              D                             A
                It's just the patterns that remain an empty shell
                              D   
                But there's a strangeness in the air 
                             C#     [C# B A G# F# F = single notes]
                You feel too well

                F#m


                F#m
                The fishing boats go out across the evening water
                D
                Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
                    Bm
                The winds whip up the waves so loud
                    A                 G
                The ghost moon sails among the clouds
                    F#m              E           F#m
                And turns the rifles into silver on the border
 
                D
                On the border
                F#m
                On the border
                D
                On the border

                F#m  
                (fade out)




\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_

    \_\_\_      \_      \_                  Glen Macon
   \_             \_ \_\_ \_            Standard disclaimer...
    \_   \_\_\_    \_  \_  \_   Commodore doesn't endorse what I say, I do
     \_       \_    \_      \_           Who wants to know...
       \_     \_     \_      \_
         \_\_\_       \_      \_