Табулатура в формате Guitar Pro , содержащая следующие дорожки:
Guitar 1
Acoustic Guitar (nylon]
Guitar 2
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 3
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 4
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 5
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 6
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 7
Overdriven Guitar
Guitar 8
Overdriven Guitar
Bass
Guitar harmonics
Percussion
Drums
Vocals
Lead 5 (charang]
Текст
In the year of thir-ty-nine, as-sem-bled here the vol-un-teers, in the days when the lands were few. Here the ship sailed out in-to the blue and sun-ny morn. Sweet-est sight ev-er seen. And the night fol-lowed day, and the sto-ry-tell-ers say, that the score brave souls in-side. Mmm, for man-y a lone-ly day sailed a-cross the milk-y seas. Neґer looked back, nev-er feared, nev-er cried. Donґt you hear my call? Though youґre man-y years a-way. Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? Write your let-ters in the sand, for the day I take your hand in the land that our grand-chil-dren knew. Donґt you hear my call? Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? Write your let-ters in the sand, for the day I take your hand in the land that our grand-chil-dren knew. In the year of thir-ty-nine, as-sem-bled here the vol-un-teers, in the days when the lands were few. Here the ship sailed out in-to the blue and sun-ny morn. Sweet-est sight ev-er seen. And the night fol-lowed day, and the sto-ry-tell-ers say, that the score brave souls in-side. Mmm, for man-y a lone-ly day sailed a-cross the milk-y seas. Neґer looked back, nev-er feared, nev-er cried. Donґt you hear my call? Though youґre man-y years a-way. Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? Write your let-ters in the sand, for the day I take your hand in the land that our grand-chil-dren knew. Donґt you hear my call though youґre man-y years a-way? Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? All your let-ters in the sand can-not heal me like your hand. For my life still a-head, pit-y me. Donґt you hear my call? Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? Write your let-ters in the sand, for the day I take your hand in the land that our grand-chil-dren knew. Donґt you hear my call though youґre man-y years a-way? Donґt you hear me call-inґ you? All your let-ters in the sand can-not heal me like your hand. For my life still a-head, pit-y me.