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In the gallery

In The Gallery (Dire Straits)

Harry made a bare­back rider proud and free upon a horse
And a fine coalminer for the NCB that was
A fallen angel and 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
Ignored by all the trendy boys in Lon­don and in Leeds
He might as well have been mak­ing toys or strings of beads
He could not be in the gallery

And then you get an artist says he doesn’t want to paint at all
He takes an empty can­vas and sticks it on the wall
The 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 in the gallery

No lies he wouldn’t com­pro­mise
No junk no bits of string
And all the lies we sub­si­dize
That just don’t mean a thing
I’ve got to say he passed away in obscu­rity
And now all the vul­tures are com­ing down from the tree
So he’s going to be in the gallery

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