#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
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From uunet!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!wupost!m.cs.uiuc.edu!ux1.cso.uiuc.edu!uchinews!ellis!rons Wed May 27 15:36:25 PDT 1992
Article: 4222 of alt.guitar
Newsgroups: alt.guitar
Path: nevada.edu!uunet!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!wupost!m.cs.uiuc.edu!ux1.cso.uiuc.edu!uchinews!ellis!rons
From: rons@ellis.uchicago.edu (josh  ronsen)
Subject: Re: TAB/CHORDS: Pink Floyd's "Free Four"
Message-ID: <1992May27.181124.16378@midway.uchicago.edu>
Sender: news@uchinews.uchicago.edu (News System)
Reply-To: rons@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations
References: <1992May27.155017.23196@wpi.WPI.EDU>
Date: Wed, 27 May 1992 18:11:24 GMT
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	Free Four by the Pink Floyd (from the album Obscured by Clouds)
	written by Waters

	Really simple song (but a fun one):

intro: 
|G ' ' '|G ' C D| repeat

G			     C
The memories of a man in his old age
	D                     G*   (then intro bit)
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
G                           C
You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom
    D                         G*  (then intro bit twice)
And talk to yourself till you die.


* don't forget about distored guitar hitting a G5 here...*

That's it musically for all the verses.  The interlude section is just:

|B " " "| " " G A | (repeat many times: add solo with much art. harmonics...)
|G ' ' '| G ' C D |

And that is it, at least as far as I am concerned.  Perhaps someone else
could give some pointers as how to attack the solos.  The rest of the
verses are:

Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.

So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go, and I can tell you, 'cause I know
You may find it hard to get off.

You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son
And he was buried like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.

And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?

The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.



	-Josh Ronsen
	ronsen@gargoyle.uchicago.edu