RUNNERS UP (Heaton/Rotheray) 

Em  Am     Em    Am    C      C7     F       G      C      G      Am      G

                 C                 G                    Am                         G
I'm going back to the old school yard to have the final word
             C                                       G
Not to give a victory speech or to lift a winners cup
           F                       G
But to blow the building up
                   C                 G                        Am                       G
He's going back to the old school yard to kick them in the teeth
       C                                        G
To grip them by the throat, to hear them scream like no-one
                F          G
Like they did to me

         C            Am          C                 G        F                       G
Your big red cross is a part of the bosses’ plan to keep us tame
               C                        Am       C                  G 
From the moment we are born, this pathetic uniform
     F                                            G
Is worn to keep us looking all the same

                           C                                      G                             Am     G
This is the runners-up we used to sit and pray this is the runners-up
                            C                                      G                            Am      G
This is the runners-up we used to sit and pray this is the runners-up
              Em                                          Am
And we hope you turn in your grave again tonight
       Em                                          Am
We hope you turn in your grave again tonight
           C                                       C7                                      F          G     C  G  Am  G
And nothing stays the same but nothing seems to change, no more

                   C        G        Am      G
He's going back
He's going back to the old school yard
To let them know who I am
I'm battered and I’m bruised and I feel a little used but that's part of the plan

I'm going back to the old school yard with a bomb in hand
It's a shame the teacher’s pet hasn't nothing burning yet
But I'm sure she'd understand 

And I'll shed a little tear as I watch her disappear and the memory was gone
But in her voice a little slurred, I could hear those final words
"..................................................."

Chorus