G                     D
Did the wine make her dream 
           G              
Of the far distant spring 
           G           D
Or a bed full of hens 
           G              D
Or the ghost of a friend 

           G                    D
All the while that she wept 
                G               D
She had a gun by her bed 
          G           D
And a letter he wrote 
           G                      D
From a dry, foundered boat 
             C                     D
And the train track will take 
           G                     C
All the wounded ones home 
       C       D
And I’ll be alone 
               G            D
Fare thee well Sara Jones 

             G             D
Now we lie on the floor 
                G      D
While the radio war 
              G                       D
Finds its way through the air 
           G                 D
Of the dead market square 

             G                 D
And the beast never seen 
               G              D
Licks it’s red talons clean 
        G              D
Sara curses the cold 
                G                      D                    G
"No more snow, no more snow, no more snow"