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, no no, 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, who's going to be

In the gallery, in the gallery No lies he wouldn't compromise, no junk, no string

And all the lies we subsidize that just don't mean a thing, 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, yea he's going to be

In the ga-gal-gallery

Gal, in the gallery Harry made a bareback rider

And a fine coal miner