Silver and Gold

Tune down one-half step (Eb Ab Db Gb Bb Eb) A(XII): x x 14 14 14 x Intro Verse In the shit house, a shotgun Praying hands hold me down Only the hunter was hunted In this tin can town, tin can town No stars in the black night Looks like the sky fall down No sun in the daylight Looks like it's chained to the ground, chained to the ground. Chorus The warden said, "The exit is sold," If you want a way out Silver and gold. Broken back to the ceiling Broken nose to the floor I scream at the sounds, it's coming Crawls under the door There's a rope around my neck and there's a Trigger in your gun Jesus say something! I am someone! I am someone! (XII) I am someone! Captains and kings in the slave ships hold They came to collect Silver and gold Silver and gold Guitar solo e-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- B-|-12-------12-------12-------12/14-14-------14-------14-------14/15\12------ G-|----12-------12-------12----12-14----14-------14-------14----14-15-12------ D-|-------12-------12-------12-------------14-------14-------14--------------- A-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- E-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- e-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- B-|-12-------12-------12-------12/14-14-------14-------14-------14/15\12-12--- G-|----12-------12-------12----12-14----14-------14-------14----14-15-12-12--- D-|-------12-------12-------12-------------14-------14-------14--------------- A-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- E-|--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Seen them coming and going Seen them captains and the kings Seen them navy blue uniforms Seen them bright and shiny things, bright shiny things, yeah! The temperature is rising The fever white hot Mister I ain't got nothing But it's More than you've got Chains no longer bind me Nor the shackles at my feet Outside are the prisoners Inside the free, set them free Set them free A prize fighter in a corner is told Hit where it hurts -- silver and gold Silver and gold. Spoken "Yep. Silver and gold. This song was written in a hotel room in New York City. Right about the time a friend of ours, little Steven, Was pulling together a record of artists against Apartheid. It's a song written about a man, in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg. A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of White South Africa. A man at the point where he is ready to take up arms against his oppressor. A man who's lost faith in the peace makers of the West. While they argue and while they fail to support a man like Bishop Tutu. And his request for economic sanctions against South Africa. Am I bugging you? I don't mean to bug ya'. Okay Edge, play the blues." 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