Blackbird Raum - The Helm of Ned Kelly
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G Natural Minor
3
Helpers
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
E
F
F#
G
G#
A
A#
B
C
C#
D
D#
E
B
C
C#
D
D#
E
F
F#
G
G#
A
A#
B
G
G#
A
A#
B
C
C#
D
D#
E
F
F#
G
D
D#
E
F
F#
G
G#
A
A#
B
C
C#
D
A
A#
B
C
C#
D
D#
E
F
F#
G
G#
A
E
F
F#
G
G#
A
A#
B
C
C#
D
D#
E
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
G Natural Minor
i
ii°
III
iv
v
VI
VII
Capo 3
Verse 1
Em – Am – G – C – Em – Am – Em – – – x4Like a fist clutching bread
just to hoard and withhold like the grain that they locked in the silo
we'll be eating soup of stone til what we grow is what we own
but we won't steal from the land what's freely given
tear up the deeds to the land, throw the debts into the furnace
debts to god to the banks and to the landlord
don your armor don your helm, which was forged from an old plows blade
train your horses round and aim your guns at sydney
Chorus 1
Em – Am – D – B – B – Em – Am – B – I was born from a seed that was swallowed by a mad woman
from the lips and the tongue of ceridwen
I had took just a taste that had splashed up from the black kettle
in the waves neither drowned nor aged a day
Break
Em – Am – G – C – Em – Am – Em – – – x2Verse 2
Em – Am – G – C – Em – Am – Em – – – x2down their lying in the brush was one bloody tethered horse
and one detective in the service of the crown
even though we're just one pistol against an army of policemen
I insist that we are many and they are few
Chorus 2
Em – Am – D – B – B – Em – Am – B – I was born from a seed that was swallowed by a mad woman
from the lips and the tongue of ceridwen
I had took just a taste that had splashed up from the black kettle
in the waves neither drowned nor aged a day
Verse 3
Em – Am – G – C – Em – Am – Em – – – x2it was on van dieman's land where your father came in transport
chained like cattle to the deck of a ship
held hostage in a word, stolen from the shores of erin
south australia bound in bondage of the queen's men
tear up the deeds to the land, throw the debts into the furnace
debts to god to the banks and to the landlord
don your armor don your helm, which was forged from an old plows blade
train your horses round and aim your guns at sydney
Chorus 3
Em – Am – D – B – B – Em – Am – B – I was born from a seed that was swallowed by a mad woman
from the lips and the tongue of ceridwen
I had took just a taste that had splashed up from the black kettle
in the waves neither drowned nor aged a day
Outro
F#m – B – D – C# – x8💡
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