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Frot ( тексты песен и аккорды на Tekst-pesni.ru ): [email protected] (Petter Larsson)
Fourth Time Around - Bob Dylan
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('Blonde on Blonde' album)
F Bb F Bb
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When she said, "Don't waste your words, they're just lies," I cried she was deaf.
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And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes, Then said, "What else you got left?"
Am Gm
It was then that I got up to leave But she said, "Don't forget,
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Ev'rybody must give something back For something they get."
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I stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum and asked her how come.
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And she buttoned her boot, And straightened her suit, Then she said, "Don't get cute."
Am Gm
So I forced my hands in my pockets And felt with my thumbs,
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And gallantly handed her My very last peice of gum.
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She threw me outside, I stood in the dirt where ev'ry-one walked.
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And after finding I'd Forgotten my shirt, I went back and knocked.
Am Gm
I waited in the hallway, she went to get it, And I tried to make sense,
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Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair That leaned up against...
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Her Jamaican rum And when she did come, I asked her for some.
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She said, "No, dear." I said, "Your words aren't clear, You'd better spit out your gum."
Am Gm
She screamed till her face got so red, Then she fell on the floor,
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And I covered her up and then Thought I'd go look through her drawer.
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And when I was through, I filled up my shoe And brought it to you.
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And you, you took me in, You loved me then, You didn't waste time.
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And I, I never took much, I never asked for your crutch, Now don't ask for mine.
