A Thousand Dead People in Her Hair Jan Hauenstein

(C) (G/B) (Am) (G5) (F) (F/C) (G)
(C) She (G/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (Fj7)people in her (Fj9)hair,
(C) She (Em7/B)had a (Am)thousand(Am/G) dead (F)people in her (E)hair,
A (F)thousand dead (E)people in her (Am)hair.(Am2)(Am) (Bass notes: AB)

(C) Really (G/B)not a (Am)person (Am/G) I (Fj7)think I could ever (Fj9)like,
(F) Looked like a (G)high-society (Am7)dame. (Bass notes: AB)
(C) Still, (Em7/B)when I (Am)saw her (Am/G) in that (F)magazine to(E)day,
(F) I just (G)thought, oh, what a (Am7)shame. (Bass notes: AB)

(C) She (G/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (Fj7)people in her (Fj9)hair,
(C) She (Em7/B)had a (Am)thousand(Am/G) dead (F)people in her (E)hair,
A (F)thousand dead (E)people in her (Am)hair.(Am2)(Am) (Bass notes: AB)

(C) She (G/B)had a (Am)big(Am/G) pearl (Fj7)necklace ´round her (Fj9)neck,
(F) Her hair was (G)done up (Am7)well. (Bass notes: AB)
(C) But (Em7/B)when I (Am)looked (Am/G)at her (F)frightened haggard (E)face,
(F) I knew that (G)she had been through (Am7)hell. (Bass notes: AB)

(C) She (G/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (Fj7)people in her (Fj9)hair,
(C) She (Em7/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (F)people in her (E)hair,
A (F)thousand dead (E)people in her (Am)hair.(Am2)(Am) (Bass notes: AB)

(C) (G/B)When the (Am)big birds (Am/G) (Fj7)crashed into the (Fj9)towers
(F) Came the (G)big bang and the (Am7)heat.(Bass notes: AB)
(C) (G/B) (Am)People (Am/G)there (F) just evaporated,(E)
(F) Big yellow (G)cloud rolled down the (Am7)street…(Bass notes: AB)

(C) She (G/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (Fj7)people in her (Fj9)hair,
(C) She (Em7/B)had a (Am)thousand (Am/G) dead (F)people in her (E)hair,
A (F)thousand dead (E)people in her (Am)hair.(Am2)(Am) (Bass notes: AB)
(Am 5th fret)

janhauenstein@gmx.de

www.janhauenstein.com

A few weeks after the attack on the Twin Towers, there was a picture in the German news magazine ‘Der Spiegel’ (that of course I forgot to save).
It showed an Asian lady in a yellow-brown dress.
No, it didn´t. That was an African-American lady, and the cloud of debris from the WTC had rolled over her.
I read the accompanying article and realized WHAT WAS IN THAT CLOUD.
Tiny fragments of dead, burnt, incinerated people.
The monstrosity of that picture hit me like a hammer.
I rushed to my desk and the song, words and music, was finished within 20 minutes.
I had it in my head the second I realized what that monstrous picture showed.
Göttingen, 12 December 2001

This week I saw the picture again, ten years later, once more in Der Spiegel.
I know know the name of the lady and read up on her background. Not a high-society dame, a bank clerk.
I do not think I have to change the song. The basics are the same.
Göttingen, 11 September 2011