MusicGu.ru

119
{title:Autumn to May}
{st:Paul Stookey & Peter Yarrow}
Oh, [C]once I had a [Bm]little dog, his [C]color it was [D]brown,
I [C]taught his how to [Bm]whistle, to [C]sing and dance and [D]run.
His [G]legs they were four[Em]teen yards [Bm]long, his [G]ears so very [Em]wide,
A[G]round the world in [Em]half a [Bm]day, up[C]on him I could [D]ride.
[G]Sing [C]tarry-o-[D]day, [Em]Sing [C]Autumn to [D]May.

Oh, once I had a little frog, he wore a vest of red,
He leaned upon a silver cane, a top hat on his head.
He`d speak of far off places, of things to see and do,
And all the kings and queens he`d met, while sailing in a shoe.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Oh, one I had a flock of sheep, they grazed upon a feather.
I`d keep them in a music box from wind and rainy weather.
And every day the sun would shine, they`d fly all through the town
To bring me back some golden rings, and candy by the pound.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Oh, once I had a downy swan, she was so very frail,
She sat upon an oyster shell, and hatched me out a snail.
The snail it changed into a bird, the bird to butterfly,
And he who tells a bigger tale would have to tell a lie.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Submitted to the ftp.nevada.edu:/pub/guitar archives
by Steve Putz
7 September 1992

119
{title:Autumn to May}
{st:Paul Stookey & Peter Yarrow}
Oh, [C]once I had a [Bm]little dog, his [C]color it was [D]brown,
I [C]taught his how to [Bm]whistle, to [C]sing and dance and [D]run.
His [G]legs they were four[Em]teen yards [Bm]long, his [G]ears so very [Em]wide,
A[G]round the world in [Em]half a [Bm]day, up[C]on him I could [D]ride.
[G]Sing [C]tarry-o-[D]day, [Em]Sing [C]Autumn to [D]May.

Oh, once I had a little frog, he wore a vest of red,
He leaned upon a silver cane, a top hat on his head.
He`d speak of far off places, of things to see and do,
And all the kings and queens he`d met, while sailing in a shoe.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Oh, one I had a flock of sheep, they grazed upon a feather.
I`d keep them in a music box from wind and rainy weather.
And every day the sun would shine, they`d fly all through the town
To bring me back some golden rings, and candy by the pound.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Oh, once I had a downy swan, she was so very frail,
She sat upon an oyster shell, and hatched me out a snail.
The snail it changed into a bird, the bird to butterfly,
And he who tells a bigger tale would have to tell a lie.
Sing tarry-o-day, Sing Autumn to May.

Submitted to the ftp.nevada.edu:/pub/guitar archives
by Steve Putz
7 September 1992

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