Artist: | Christy Moore (English) |
User: | TA52477 |
Duration: | 200 seconds |
Delay: | 15 seconds |
Chord names: | Not defined |
Abusive: | |
Comment: | - |
Christy Moore – Beeswing
[Verse 1]
G
I was 18 when I came to town they called it the summer of love
G D C
Burnin' babies burnin' flags the hawks against the dove
G
I took a job at the steaming way down on Caltrim Street
G D C
Fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin' next to me
G
Brown hair zig-zagged around her face and a look of half surprise
G D C
Like a fox caught in the headlights there was animal in her eyes
G
She said to me can’t you see I’m not the factory kind
G D C
If you don’t take me out of here I’ll lose my mind
[Chorus]
Em G
She was a rare thing fine as a bee’s wing
Em D C
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
Em G
She was a lost child, she was runnin’ wild (she said)
Em D C
So long as theres no price on love I’ll stay
Am D C
You wouldn’t want me any other way
[Verse 2]
G
We busked around the market towns fruit pickin down in Kent
G D C
We could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went
G
We were campin down the Gower, the work was mighty good
G D C
She wouldn’t wait for the harvest, I thought we should
G
I said to her we’ll settle down, get a few acres dug
G D C
With a fire burning in the hearth and babbies on the rug
Em D G
She said Oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell
C G D C
You might be lord of half the world, you’ll not own me as well
[Chorus]
Em G
She was a rare thing fine as a bee’s wing
Em D C
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
Em G
She was a lost child, she was runnin’ wild (she said)
Em D C
So long as theres no price on love I’ll stay
Am D C
You wouldn’t want me any other way
[Verse 3]
G
We were drinking more in those days our tempers reached a pitch
G D C
Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch
G
Last I heard she was living rough back on the Derby beat
G D C
A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet
G
They say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown
G D C
Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin’ down
Em D G
They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze
C G D C
Maybe thats the price you pay for the chains that you refuse
[Chorus]
Em G
She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing
Em D C
I miss her more than ever words can say
Em G
If I could just taste all of her wildness now
Em D C
If I could hold her in my arms today
Am D C
I wouldn’t want her any other way