Did the wine make her dream
GOf the far distant spring
G DOr a bed full of hens
Or the ghost of a friend
All the while that she wept
G DShe had a gun by her bed
G DAnd a letter he wrote
From a dry, foundered boat
C DAnd the train track will take
G CAll the wounded ones home
And I’ll be alone
G DFare thee well Sara Jones
G D
Now we lie on the floor
G DWhile the radio war
Finds its way through the air
G DOf the dead market square
G D
And the beast never seen
G DLicks it’s red talons clean
Sara curses the cold
G D G"No more snow, no more snow, no more snow"
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