Click go the Shears
by Henry Clay Work · posted by Lebanon
Ad: Want to make Click go the Shears sound awesome on your harmonica? Master tight single notes, rock solid bending and more with easy video lessons → click here.
How to read this tab — notation key
- +
- Blow note
- −
- Draw note
- b or '
- Half-step bend
- bb or ''
- Two half-step bend
- bbb or '''
- Three half-step bend
- (###)
- Chord — relevant hole numbers in parentheses
- < or *
- Push the button in (chromatic harmonica)
Full reference and posting tips in the tab guide.
5 5 -4 4 5 6 7 7 -7 -6
Out on the board the old shearer stands,
6 6 -6 6 5 4 -4 -4 5 -4
Grasping his shears in his thin bony hands,
5 5 -4 4 5 6 7 7 -7 -6 -7 7
Fixed is his gaze on a bare-bellied yoe -
-8 7 -7 -6 6 -5 5 -4 4 4 7 7 7
Glory, if he gets her won't he make the ringer go.
Chorus:
-8 -8 7 -7 -8 7 8 7
Click go the shears, boys - click, click, click,
-6 -6 -7 7 -7 -6 6 7 5 -4
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick,
5 5 5 5 -4 4 5 6 7 7 7 -7 -6
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
-7 7 -8 7 -7 -6 6 -5 5 -4 4 7 7 7
And he curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied yoe.
In the middle of the floor in his cant-bottomed chair,
Sits the boss of the board with his eyes everywhere;
Notes well each fleece as it comes to the screen,
Paying strict attention that it's take off taken off clean.
Chorus
the tar boy is there, awaiting in demand,
With his blackened tar pot, in his tarry hand,
Sees one old sheep with a cut upon its back;
Here is what he's waiting for - it's "Tar here Jack!"
Chorus
The coloinal experience man, he is there of course,
With his shiny leggings on, just hot off his horses.
He gazes all around, like a real connoisseur,
With brilliantine and scented soap - he's smelling like whore
Chorus
Shearing is all over and we've all got our cheques,so roll up your swags, boys, we're off on the track,
The first pub we come to, it's there we'll have a spree,
And everyone that comes along, It's "Come and drink with me!"
Chorus
Down by the bar the old shearer stands,Grasping his glass in his thin bony hands,
Fixed is his gaze on a green painted keg,
Glory he'll get down on it, before he stirs a leg.
Chorus
There we leave him standing, shouting for all hands,While all around him every shouter stands,
His eyes are on the keg, which now is lowereing fast,
He works hard, he drinks hard- and kicks the bucket at last!