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Bm Welcome, my son, A To where the work is never done F# G And the hungry are seldom ever fed. Bm The department of false hope A Is a proving ground for dopes. D E F# And they'll grind your tiny bones to make their bread. (Hosanna.) G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man. G D A F# C# D Tomorrow won't be made for you. G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand. G A D For god and man, there's nothing more to do. Bm It crackled on the radio A Through bright plumes of the sun. F# G The announcer said the age of faith was dead. Bm Though the adolescent nation A Was just looking for salvation, D E F# The beast of reason reared its ugly head. (Hosanna.) G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man. G D A F# C# D Tomorrow's not for me and you. G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand. G A D For god and man, there's nothing more to do. Bm A F# G Bm A D E F# G From your cradle of destruction, A With the poorest of instruction Bm A G And the merest sliver of a tune, F# C# D Oh, you managed somehow to muddle through. G D A F# C# D So hold your head up high, forgotten man. G D A F# C# D Tomorrow's not for me and you. G D A F# C# D And everybody's gotta try to lend a helping hand. G A D Bm For god and man, there's nothing more to do. G A There is nothing more...
