Chords Richard Thompson - Beeswing
Lyrics Richard Thompson - Beeswing
i watched irish folk legend christy moore play this song its really easy; ]
richard thompson beeswing
verse :
G
i was 18 when i came to town they called it the summer of love
G D C
burning babies burning flags the hawks against the doves
G
i took a job at the steaming way down on caltrim st ,
G D C
fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin next to me .
G
brown hair zig zagged across 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 surely 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 .
we busked around the market towns fruit pickin down in kent
we could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went .
we were campin down the gower one time , the work was mighty good .
she wouldn’t wait for the harvest , i thought we should .
i said to her we’ll settle down , get a few acres dug ,
a fire burning in the hearth and babbies on the rug .
she said oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell ,
you might be lord of half the world , you’ll not own me as well
chorus
we were drinking more in those days our tempers reached a pitch
like a fool i let her run away when she took the rambling itch .
last i heard she was living rough back on the derby beat
a bottle of white horse in her pocket , a wolfhound at her feet
they say that she got married once to a man called romany brown
even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin’ down
they say her rose has faded , rough weather and hard booze ,
maybe thats the price you pay for the chains that you refuse
she was a rare thing , fine as a bee’s wing
i miss her more than ever words can say
if i could just taste all of her wildness now
if i could hold her in my arms today . . . . .
i watched irish folk legend christy moore play this song its really easy; ]
richard thompson beeswing
verse :
G
i was 18 when i came to town they called it the summer of love
G D C
burning babies burning flags the hawks against the doves
G
i took a job at the steaming way down on caltrim st ,
G D C
fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin next to me .
G
brown hair zig zagged across 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 surely 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 .
we busked around the market towns fruit pickin down in kent
we could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went .
we were campin down the gower one time , the work was mighty good .
she wouldn’t wait for the harvest , i thought we should .
i said to her we’ll settle down , get a few acres dug ,
a fire burning in the hearth and babbies on the rug .
she said oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell ,
you might be lord of half the world , you’ll not own me as well
chorus
we were drinking more in those days our tempers reached a pitch
like a fool i let her run away when she took the rambling itch .
last i heard she was living rough back on the derby beat
a bottle of white horse in her pocket , a wolfhound at her feet
they say that she got married once to a man called romany brown
even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin’ down
they say her rose has faded , rough weather and hard booze ,
maybe thats the price you pay for the chains that you refuse
she was a rare thing , fine as a bee’s wing
i miss her more than ever words can say
if i could just taste all of her wildness now
if i could hold her in my arms today . . . . .