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Sordid Tales From The Ffucke Masticke Room

This poor hard done by song. Whatever did it do to deserve a title like that. No wonder we renamed it ''Strawberries'.

Under the Greenwood tree
Sits one much more unlikely than me
Great are the lies that are told
Strange are the tales that unfold
Of beauty beyond belief
And nicotine stains on her teeth

Where the enamel is chipped and stained
Never not ever again
Will you darken this perfect day
Now the king has crossed the sea
That was the last we heard
Of Ranulf or Richard the Third
Tell me why, so pale and wan
Where exactly and why has he gone

Now she combed her hair but once a year
Watered her strawberries every day
Her eyes were red but her mind was clear
And nobody knew she was there

Slipping into my stride
I was carried away on the tide
To strange and adventurous shores
The creaking and groaning of oars
Lifts me out of my reverent daze
Out over the water I gaze
I'm crawling upon the beach
As the reverend starts to preach

So there take care
You'd better start saying your prayers
You'd better yes you'd better take care, beware
Comb the scarlet dye through your rat tailed
Hare today gone tomorrow I swear
You'd better start saying your prayers

I am innocent and naive I am dazed beyond belief
By this huge and hostile land
I can't see beyond the trees along the edge of the sand
I didn't know what to do I didn't have much of a clue
Although I was down on my luck I couldn't have given a sou

You were better than the pictures
Made it better than T.V.
And if you want me again
Well I wouldn't complain
But it seems quite unlikely to me

Chords:
Intro./Verse/Chorus B E F# B