E7       Am                                  E7          Am
If you come around to mourn for Grandad don't dress up in black‚ 'cos
Am                                          E7          Am
Although me Grandad's dead and buried, odds-on he'll be back, yes
Am                                        E7           Am
Although they stuffed him in a coffin and read out the will, and
E7  Am                                        E7        Am
Although he's six foot deep in darkness he'll never lie still.
C            Am                       E7        Am
He's made of sterner stuff,      he's not dead enough.
Am         C       Am
Angels, saints and seraphim
Am         E7          Am
Please, please will you try
E7         Am
to keep an eye
E7  Am
On him.


[Verse 2]
Am                                      E7         Am
On his ninetieth birthday, Grandad went down for a drink.
E7     Am                              E7              Am
Now my Grandad is a rabid dypso with a throat like a sink. He
Am                                       E7            Am
Drank himself toward the skyline and his friends to the floor just
Am                                       E7          Am
To prove how fit he was for boozing for ninety years more.
C                        Am        E7           Am
Your pearly gates he'll climb when it's opening time.

Am          C      Am
Angels, saints and seraphim
Am     C                Am     C       Am
You'll, you'll find it hard to keep a guard
E7  Am
On him.


[Verse 3]
E7   Am                                        E7          Am
They brought him home upon a handcart with his legs in the air. He
E7  Am                                  E7             Am
Was singing Rule Britannia backwards in his underwear. He
Am                                          E7                 Am
Challenged all the county police force to a fight right away, then
Am                                        E7      Am
He offered to put the Ladies' Union in the family way.
C            Am                    E7           Am
Your crystal domes will shake when he makes his break
Am      C          Am
Angels, saints and seraphim
Am    C            Am    C        Am
He'll give you the slip, so get a grip
E7 Am
On him.

E7  Am                             E7             Am    E7
The doctor lifted up an eyelid and pronounced him gone. But
E7  Am                                       E7         Am
To judge from Grandad's finger signals the doctor was wrong. They
Am                                           E7            Am
Dressed him in his Sunday night-shirt, they combed out his hair, but
Am                                             E7           Am
They couldn't get my Grandad's boots off, he'd need them up there.
C             Am                            E7        Am
Your silken wings he'll shed. He will paint Paradise red.
Am      C          Am
Angels, saints and seraphim
Am     E7            Am     E7        Am
Please please  don't expect that much respect
E7   Am
From him.


[Verse 4]
Am                           E7         Am    E7
Even at the solemn moment he wouldn't behave, for
E7 Am                                       E7         Am     E7
I  heard him whistling in his coffin on his way to the grave. He
E7   Am                                E7           Am    E7
Took off toward the New Jerusalem with his pinch of salt. I
E7  Am                                  E7     Am
Distinctly heard him flatulating in his marble vault.
C            Am                  E7          Am
Your candles will be dimmed when he gets the wind.
Am      C
Angels, saints and seraphim
Am                 C
Although he's old, although he's cold,
Am     E7
Keep a tight hold
E7 Am
On him.