Tipo de gaita: Diatônica Tom: qualquer Verse 1 7 7 7 7 -7 -7 -7 -6 I never thought it would happen -6 -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 With me and a girl from Clapham 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b Out on the windy common 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 That night I aint forgotten 7 7 -7 -7 -6 -7 -6 When she dealt out the rations -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 With some or other passions 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b I said "You are a la-dy" 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 "Perhaps" she said " I may-be" Verse 2 (Same Tune) We moved into a basement With thoughts of our engagement We stayed in by the telly Although the room was smelly We spent our time just kissin' The Runway Arms we missin' But love had got us hooked up And all our time it took up Verse 3 7 7 -7 -7 -7 -7 -6 I got a job with Stanly -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 He said I'd come in handy 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b And started me on Monday -4 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 So I had a bath on Sunday 7 7 -7 -7 -7 -7 -6 I worked e-le-ven hours -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 And bought the girl some flowers 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b She said she'd seen a doctor 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 And nothing now could stop her~~~ Verse 4 -6 -6 -6 -7 7 -7 6 I worked all through the winter 6 6 6 -6 -7 -6 -5 The weather brass and bitter -6 -5 -5 6 -6 6 -5 I put away a tenner -4 -4 -4 5 -4 -5 -5 Each week to make it better -7 -7 -7 7 -8 7 -6 And when the time was ready -6 -6 -6 -7 7 -7 6 We had to sell the telly -5 6 6 -6 -7 -6 -5 Make evenings by the fi-re -4 5 -4 5 -4 5 -5 And little kicks in-side her~~~ Verse 5 -7 -7 -6 -6 -6 -6 6 This morning at four fifty 6 6 -5 -5 5 5 -4 I took her rather nifty -4 -4 4 4 -3 4 3 Down to an in-cu-ba-tor -3 4 -3 4 -3 4 -4 'Bout thirty minutes la-ter -7 -7 -6 -6 6 -6 6 She gave birth to a daughter 6 6 -5 -5 5 5 -4 Within a year a walker -4 -4 4 4 -3 4 3 She looked just like her mother -3 4 -3 4 -3 4 -4 If there could be an-oth-er Verse 6 7 7 -7 -7 -7 -7 -6 And now shes two years old-er -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 Her mothers with a soldier 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b She left me when my drinking 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 Became a proper stinging 7 7 -7 -7 -7 -7 -6 The devil came and took me -6 -6 6 6 -5 -5 5 From bar to street to bookie 5 5 -4 -4 4 -4 -3b No more nights by the telly 4 -4 4 -4 4 -4 5 No more nights nappy smel-ling~~~~ Verse 7 (Same tune) Alone here in the kitchen I feel there's something missing I'd beg for some forgiveness But begging's not my business And she won't write a letter Although I always tell her And so it's my assumption I'm really up the junction