In The Gallery

Harry

made a bareback rider proud and free upon a horse

And a fine coal miner for the NCB that was

A fallen angel, Jesus on the cross

A skating ballerina, you should have seen her do the skater's waltz

Some people have got to paint and draw

Harry had to work in clay and stone

Like the waves coming to the shore

It was in his blood and in his bones

He was ignored by all the trendy boys in London, yes, and in Leeds

He might as well have been making toys or strings of beads

He couldn't be

No, he couldn't be

In the gallery

And then you get an artist says he doesn't want to paint at all

Just takes an empty canvas, sticks it on a wall

Birds of a feather, all the phonies and all of the fakes

While the dealers, they get together

And they decide who gets the breaks

And who's going to be

Who's going to be

In the gallery

In the gallery[Instrumental break 3:02-4:03]

No lies, he wouldn't compromise

No junk, no string

And all the lies we subsidise

They just don't mean a thing

I've got to say he passed away in obscurity

And now all the vultures, they're coming down from the tree

He's going to be

He's going to be

In the galle-, galle-, galle-, gallery

In the gallery

Harry made a bareback rider

Made a bareback rider