"The tongue has its desire..." Tuning: Standard Capo on 1st fret Chords: F5 : 133211 G5 : 320003 A5 : x02020 B5 : x24430 C5 : x32010 D5 : xx0230 Intro 1. e | -----3-3----3-3----3-3----3-3-- | B | -----3-3----3-3----3-3----3-3-- | G | ------------------------------- | D | --3~--------------------------- | A | ---------3~-------------------- | E | ----------------3~-----3~------ | F5 C5 G5 Verse F5 C5 At last the secret is out, G5 F5 C5 G5 as it always must come in the end, F5 C5 G5 the delicious story is ripe to tell F5 C5 G5 to the intimate friend; Chorus B5 C5 over the tea-cups and into the square D5 G5 the tongue has its desire; B5 C5 still waters run deep, my dear, D5 G5 there's never smoke without fire. B5 C5 Behind the corpse in the reservoir, D5 G5 behind the ghost on the links, B5 C5 behind the lady who dances D5 F5 C5 G5 and the man who madly drinks, Verse F5 C5 under the look of fatigue D5 F5 C5 G5 the attack of migraine and the sigh F5 C5 there is always another story, G5 F5 C5 G5 there is more than meets the eye. Chorus B5 C5 For the clear voice suddenly singing, D5 G5 high up in the convent wall, B5 C5 the scent of the elder bushes, D5 G5 the sporting prints in the hall, B5 C5 the croquet matches in summer, D5 G5 B5 the handshake, the cough, the kiss, C5 A5 the kiss, the kiss B5 C5 there is always a wicked secret, D5 G5 a private reason for this B5 - C5 - D5 - G5 Outro F5 - C5 - G5 - G5 Please rate thanks! Lyrics: At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, the delicious story is ripe to tell to tell to the intimate friend; over the tea-cups and into the square the tongues has its desire; still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire. Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, under the look of fatigue the attack of migraine and the sigh there is always another story, there is more than meets the eye. For the clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall, the scent of the elder bushes, the sporting prints in the hall, the croquet matches in summer, the handshake, the cough, the kiss, there is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this +++++++++++ | Raileff | +++++++++++