Capo: 4th fret
[Intro]
G C G D G
[Verse 1]
G
There he'd stand
C
Every Saturday afternoon
Em D
Rain pouring down that well worn face
G
With a cigarette in his mouth
C
Part of a tiny noisy crowd
G D G
He’d watch his sons play the game he loved
G
He would tell us lots of stories
C
Of heroes and glories
Em D
And the pride of the Wembley Wizards on Busby Babe
G
His enthusiasm was infectious
C
He bought us football boots for Christmas
G D G
Our dad was a Scotsman and a plumber by trade
G C
I remember one time being three down at halftime
Em D
So, we looked at dad for a plan to turn the tide
G
Hе said, "Son we're not herе to have fun"
C
That whinger's trying to welch me a muck
G D G
Tackle him hard, and leave him face down in the mud
[Refrain]
Em G C
On the touchline
Em G C Am D
On the touchline, our dad
[Verse 2]
G C
A sturdy man of Caledonia and principles
Em D
But of course, we all believed him to be invincible
G
A father with a heart on the line
C
But as time went by those old legs grew tired
G D G
So we braced ourselves for the inevitable
G C
One sunny afternoon, the final whistle blew
Em D
My two brothers and I took him to his grave
G C
As a long piper played that beautiful amazing grace
G D G
Our touchline dad had died
[Verse 3]
G C
Now the funeral wasn’t sad, but a humorous affair
Em
Our dear old mom, God bless her
D
Suffered memory loss
G C
She said to my sister, "Where on Earth is your father?"
G D G
Sister Mary said, "Mom, he's at the front there in that box"
[Refrain]
Em G C
On the touchline, our dad
Em G C Am D
On the touchline, our dad
[Verse 4]
G C
Now it's my turn to stand on the side in the rain
Em D
And watch my boys play the beautiful game
And sometimes, sometimes
G
I look up to the clouds and I say
C
"Dad I hope you're looking down"
G D
'Cause if it wasn't for you
G
All this might not have been
[Refrain]
Em G C
On the touchline, our dad
Em G C Am D
On the touchline, our dad
There he'd stand
Every Saturday afternoon
Rain pouring down that well worn face
With a cigarette in his mouth
Part of a tiny noisy crowd
He'd watch his sons play the game he loved
He would tell us lots of stories
Of heroes and glories
And the pride of the Wembley Wizards on Busby Babe
His enthusiasm was infectious
He bought us football boots for Christmas
Our dad was a Scotsman and a plumber by trade
I remember one time being three down at halftime
So, we looked at dad for a plan to turn the tide
He said, "Son we're not here to have fun"
That whinger's trying to welch me a muck
Tackle him hard, and leave him face down in the mud
On the touchline
On the touchline, our dad
A sturdy man of Caledonia and principles
But of course, we all believed him to be invincible
A father with a heart on the line
But as time went by those old legs grew tired
So we braced ourselves for the inevitable
One sunny afternoon, the final whistle blew
My two brothers and I took him to his grave
As a long piper played that beautiful amazing grace
Our touchline dad had died
Now the funeral wasn't sad, but a humorous affair
Our dear old mom, God bless her
Suffered memory loss
She said to my sister, "Where on Earth is your father?"
Sister Mary said, "Mom, he's at the front there in that box"
On the touchline, our dad
On the touchline, our dad
Now it's my time on the side in the rain
And watch my boys play the beautiful game
And sometimes, sometimes
I look up to the clouds and I say
"Dad I hope you're looking down"
'Cause if it wasn't for you
All this might not have been
On the touchline, our dad
On the touchline, our dad
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