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From Under The Covers

Beautiful South

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Intro: Dm Am Bb F C Dm C F Dm Am Bb F C Dm C F Dm Bb F C It's six a.m. and even Big Ben Dm Bb F C Is trying to get his head down for a kip Dm Bb But no sooner is it down F C And then it's on with dressing gown Dm Bb F C For this city very rarely loses grip F C Bb C But I have a friend who's never up by ten F C Bb C He's fast asleep with mouth open wide F C Bb C He's lost a lot of jobs, but he's won a lot of friends F C Bb C And he says to me, he cannot tell the time It's seven a.m. and we're coughing up the phlegm Spitting out the taste of night before And we'll vomit and we'll choke Just to climb their tatty rope Well this city has its charm and its claw And he'll blame his clock Or he'll say he's lost his socks And they'll tell you that he's been bitten by a snake His excuses are an art >From the bottom of his heart And he thinks of them whenever he awakes It's eight a.m. we're on the road again Racing for a placing at the top And it says green for go For the people in the know But for the others all it says is red for stop It's cold and it's damp And they've dug him a grave And the ten fifteen merchant's still in bed And scrawled upon the headboard For the whole wide world to see is "Died In The Arms Of Big Ted"
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