Chords for Antonio Carlos Jobim (Waters of March in English)

[A] _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
A stick, a stone, it's the end of [G#m] the road.
[D#] It's the rest of [G] a stump, [C#] it's a little [F#] alone.
It's a sliver of glass, it [B] is life, it's [F] the sun.
[Em] It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's [F#] a gun.
[B] We hope when [F#m] it blooms, a [B] fox [F] in the brush, the [Em] nod of the wood, the song of [F#] a thrush,
[B] the wood of [F#m] the wind, a cliff [C#] of fall, a scratch, [Em] a lump, it is nothing [F#] at all.
It's the [F#m] wind blowing free, it's [B] the end of the slope.
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope.
And the [F#m] riverbank talks [D#] of the waters of March.
[F#] It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart.
The foot, [A] the ground, the flesh and [G#m] the bone, the feet of [G] the road, a slingshot [F#] stone.
A fish, a [B] flesh, a [F] silvery glow, a [Em] fight, a bet, [F#] the range of a bow, the [F#m] bed of the well.
The [F] end of the line, the [Em] dismay in the face, it's a loss, it's [F#] a find, a spear, [B] a spike, a point, [G#m] a nail, a dip, [Em] a drop.
The end of [B] the tail, a truckload [F#m] of bricks in [B] the soft [C#] morning light, the shot of [A] a gun in [C#] the dead of [D#m] the night.
A mile, a [B] must, a thrust, a bump, it's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps.
The plan of [F#m] the house, the [B] body and dead, [C#] and the car that [Em] got stuck, it's the mud, it's [F#] the mud.
A float, [E] a drift, [B] a flight, a wing, [G]
a hawk, a [Em] quail.
The promise of [F#] spring and the riverbank [F#m] talks of the waters [C#] of March.
It's the [Em] promise of life, it's the joy in your [B] heart. _
[A#] _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ [D] _
_ _ _ _ _ [B] _ _ _
_ _ [G#m] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _
_ _ [D#m] _ _ _ _ [F] _ _
_ _ [C#m] _ _ _ [Em] _ _ _
_ _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [G#m] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _
_ _ [B] _ A snake, a [F#m] stick, it is John, it [F] is Joe, [C#] it's a thorn in [Em] your hand and a clap in [F#] your toe.
A point, [F#m] a grain, a bee, [C#] a bite, a blink, a [Em] buzzard, a sudden [F#] stroke of night, a pin, a [B] needle, a sting, [G#m] a pain, a snail, [C#] a riddle, a wasp, [B] a stain.
A bass and the [Bm] monkeys, a horse and [C#] the mule, in the distance the shells, roe-free [B] shadows of blue, and the riverbank [Bm] talks of the waters [C#] of March.
It's the promise of [C] life in your heart, in [B] your heart.
A stick, a stone, the end of the [G#m] load, the rest [G] of the stump, a [D#m] lonesome load, a sliver [C#m] of glass, [D#] a life, [F] a son, a night, [Em] a death, the end of [F#] the run.
And the [F#m] riverbank [B] talks of the waters [C#] of March.
It's the end of [Em] all strain, it's the joy in [B] your heart. _ _ _ _
_ _ [C#] _ _ _ _ [Em] _ _
_ _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ [C#m] _
[B] _ _ [C#] _ _ [G#m] _ _ [Em] _ _
_ _ [B] _ _ _ _ [Bm] _ _
_ _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ [Em] _
_ _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _
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