Intro
G A D D
G A D D
G A D D
G A D C D C
verse 1
D
Camped out on a lower slope, dog tired at the toposcope
G A
Hot soup in the aftermath, salad days in many ways.
G A
Then time creeps up unseen
D
And it puts me back at the front of the bus,
G A D
Hands I once held no longer there,
G A
Grey falls on the green
D
As I try’n get used to me and not us
G A D C D C
Where I’m going I’m not sure that I care.
verse 2
D
Still thought I could play out wide, felt sure I could stay onside
G A
But stiff limbs and a shin which looks like Inter’s end on derby day says
G A
Time’s crept up unseen
D
And it’s stuck me back at the front of the bus,
G A D
Bound who knows where, free of charge
G A
The situation’s lean
D
Though it could be worse so I don’t make a fuss
G A D C D D
Still evading capture, still at large.
Break
G D
Somebody’s mumbling Galatians
G Bb C G
Somewhere a rope print fleece needs 90 degrees
D
Pushchair related confrontations
G Bb C G Bb C G A A
Pastoral conceits, Italian fancies, comic glees.
verse 3
D
No stroll of a summer’s eve, neck brace and a shower sleeve
G A
Hot soup in the afterlife, got my fingers crossed because
G A
Old Father Time’s a lie
D
And he’s sat by me at the front of the bus.
G A D
Here I am as there I was before
G A
Things I hold dear
D
Held in place by means of a surgical truss
G A D
Sorry, not in service any more.
C D C D C D D