The Finish Line
By Steve Taylor.
                                                        Figured out by
Craig and Terry Barnes.


G                                                                         
                   A
Once upon an average morn, an average boy was born for the second time.
C                                                                          
                   G
Prone upon the alter there, he whispered up a prayer he'd kept hid inside.
                                                                           
                    A
The vision came, you saw the odds, a hundred little gods on a gilded wheel.
C                                                                          
                      G
These will vie to take your place, but father by your grace I will never
kneel
                                                               A
And I saw you upright and proud, and I saw you wave to the crowd, 
          C                                                 G              
Eb,  F
and I saw you laughing out loud at the Philistines.
           G                                                  A
And I saw you, brush away rocks, and I saw you pull up you socks,
          C                                                  G             
    A
and I saw you out of the blocks for the finish line.
  D                                                                        
                      E
Darkness falls, the devil stirs and as your vision blurs you start
stumbling.
C                                                            G             
                             D                        Bb, C
The heart is weak, the will is gone and every strong conviction comes
tumbling down.
D                                                                          
                E
Malice reigns the acid guile sucking at your shoes while the mud is fresh.
    C                                                       G              
                   D                       Bb, C
It floods the trail, it bleeds you dry as every little god buys it's pound
of flesh.
           D                                                      E        
           
And I saw you, licking your wounds, and I saw you weave  your cocoons,
          C             G                                      D           
         Bb, C
and I saw you changing your tunes for the party line.
           D                                                    E          
                      
And I saw you welch on old debts, I saw you and Your comrades Bum
Cigarettes,
                C                                                  G       
                              D                    Bb, C
and you hemmed, and you hawed and you hedged all your bets waiting for a
sign.
Eb                                        C                            Eb  
                                 F
Let's wash our hands as we throw little fits, lets all wash our hands as we
curse hypocrites,
           Ab                                 Eb                       Bb  
                                                 G
we're locked in a wash room, turning old tricks, Deaf, and joyless, and
full of it, Oh!
G                                                                          
                  A
The vision came you saw the odds, a hundred little gods on a gilded wheel.
C                                                                          
                           C                  B
These have tried to take your place, but father by your grace I will never
kneel.
           C                   B
I will never kneel.
C                                                                         D
            
Off in the distance, bloodied, but wise, as you squint with the light of
the truth in your eyes.
           C                                                           D
And I saw you, both hands were raised, and I saw your lips move in praise, 
           Bb                         F                  C
and I saw you staring you gaze for the finish line.
                                                                           
     D
Every idol like dust, a word scattered them all, and I rose to my feet when
you scaled the last wall,
         Bb                                  F                             
C                 Eb, F
and I gasped when I saw you fall in his arms at the finish line.
           C               Eb, F   C        Eb, F         C
At the finish line,             Ohhhhhhhh at the finish line.



Steve Taylor is a dead set ledgend! I hope that he will write one more
album and tour Australia
before he dies for real or puts his back out completely.