| A |
| Let fall your |
| G | D |
| soft and swaying | skirt; let fall your |
| A | Em |
| shoes; let fall your | shirt. I’m not the |
| G | D |
| lady-killing | sort. Enough to |
| A | G | D |
| hurt | a girl in | port. |
| A |
| Marie’s gone |
| G | D |
| blonde, and lost a | stone. She lay on her |
| A | Em |
| lawn, spun and | alone. And when the |
| G | D |
| morning sun, it | rose upon |
| A | Em |
| Marie, and her lacy | clothes. It lit her |
| G | D |
| up, and she walked | around the winding |
| A | Em |
| streets of Camden | town. She don’t know |
| G | D |
| who she wants to | be, but if I |
| A | G | D |
| knew, | I’d tell | Marie. |
| And Cindy tells me she’s had fun, |
| Sitting backstage,someone’s plus one. |
| Up in her room,the records spin |
| a needle in the grooves that she’s worn thin. |
| Well, she lifts the sleeve and she sees a name. |
| And she’s got a smile on her face |
| And she’s got a story you can’t see |
| Well, that’s just between that name and Cindy. |
| Interlude: A Asus4 A |
| And before Holly made her way |
| Over the sea and far away, |
| She’s telling me inside her car |
| driving us back from the Crystal Corner bar. |
| I lost her there; I fell from health |
| Cut some fresh pieces from myself |
| Then for a second something in me |
| Said leave today, it’s time, Holly. |
| Oh, I’m a weak and lonely sort, |
| Though I’m not sailing just for sport. |
| I’ve come to feel out on the sea |
| These urgent lives press against me. |
| I’m just a guest; I’m not a part |
| My tender head with my easy heart. |
| These several years out on the sea |
| Made me empty, cold, and clear; pour yourself into me. |