Working Girls Chords by Redgum
Tempo:
95.7 bpm
Chords used:
G
D
A
Bm
F#m
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[F#m] [Bm]
[G] [D]
[A] [G]
[D] Said she came from Portland, [Bm] where the ashen skies and leaden [G] ocean left her [D] like the local
boys, [A] barren [G] of emotion.
[D] As we talked we watched the [Bm] raindrops running down the window, the laundromat [F#m] in Darlinghurst
[G] like a fish-ob from the [A] past.
[G] And her mother [D] called her Mary, [A] after Mary Magdalene, [Bm] to deny [F#m] her beauty [G] would have been
the [A] greatest sin.
There [G] was a profile [D] in the neon [A] and a king's cross doorway [Bm] lean, [G] to a half an [D] hour of tenderness,
[A] half an [D] hour of someone [G] listening, half an hour [D] of tending [G] someone else's tangled [A] dream.
[G] [D] There were lines of sailors and lines of [Bm] speed, lines upon [D] the footpath as she [G] stared,
[D] when things were quiet, [A] as night deferred to [G] dawn.
[D] And the coat-cups played [C#] Red Rover [Bm] in the breeze that scuttled through the streets,
taxis [F#m] left for Grinnefield [G] while Sydney stretched and [A] yawned.
[G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene, there [Bm] were virgins [F#m] in the morning,
she [G] had sisters in the [A] pain.
[G] And the wives would clutch their [D] husbands [A] as they passed her on [Bm] the street,
[G] perhaps it [D] was her honesty, [A] perhaps they shared the [D] shame.
[G] Working streets [D] and wedding rings, [G] sometimes [A] much the same,
[G]
[A#] [F]
[Gm] [D#] [A#]
[F] [Gm] [D#]
[D] tap dance [C#m] for the buskers,
near [G] the subway [B] shouting blue songs they remembered, from their [D] teenage years [A] of Dreamtime [G] radio.
[D] And the years withdrew behind her eyes, [Bm] let the little [Bm] girl look out,
simple childish [F#m] innocence, [G] a drawing in [A] the sand.
[G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene,
she [Bm] had long dark hair and [F#m] massage oil [G] and a key to let you [A] in.
[G] And the lines upon her [D] face were [A] maps of roads she'd travel line [G] with,
people throwing [D] stones, because they didn't [A] understand,
[G] that a half an hour [D] of tenderness, [A] perhaps they shared the shame.
[G] Working streets and [D] wedding rings, sometimes much the [A] same.
[G] [A#]
[F] [Gm] [D#]
[A#] [F] [Gm]
[D#] [D]
[G] [D]
[A] [G]
[D] Said she came from Portland, [Bm] where the ashen skies and leaden [G] ocean left her [D] like the local
boys, [A] barren [G] of emotion.
[D] As we talked we watched the [Bm] raindrops running down the window, the laundromat [F#m] in Darlinghurst
[G] like a fish-ob from the [A] past.
[G] And her mother [D] called her Mary, [A] after Mary Magdalene, [Bm] to deny [F#m] her beauty [G] would have been
the [A] greatest sin.
There [G] was a profile [D] in the neon [A] and a king's cross doorway [Bm] lean, [G] to a half an [D] hour of tenderness,
[A] half an [D] hour of someone [G] listening, half an hour [D] of tending [G] someone else's tangled [A] dream.
[G] [D] There were lines of sailors and lines of [Bm] speed, lines upon [D] the footpath as she [G] stared,
[D] when things were quiet, [A] as night deferred to [G] dawn.
[D] And the coat-cups played [C#] Red Rover [Bm] in the breeze that scuttled through the streets,
taxis [F#m] left for Grinnefield [G] while Sydney stretched and [A] yawned.
[G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene, there [Bm] were virgins [F#m] in the morning,
she [G] had sisters in the [A] pain.
[G] And the wives would clutch their [D] husbands [A] as they passed her on [Bm] the street,
[G] perhaps it [D] was her honesty, [A] perhaps they shared the [D] shame.
[G] Working streets [D] and wedding rings, [G] sometimes [A] much the same,
[G]
[A#] [F]
[Gm] [D#] [A#]
[F] [Gm] [D#]
[D] tap dance [C#m] for the buskers,
near [G] the subway [B] shouting blue songs they remembered, from their [D] teenage years [A] of Dreamtime [G] radio.
[D] And the years withdrew behind her eyes, [Bm] let the little [Bm] girl look out,
simple childish [F#m] innocence, [G] a drawing in [A] the sand.
[G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene,
she [Bm] had long dark hair and [F#m] massage oil [G] and a key to let you [A] in.
[G] And the lines upon her [D] face were [A] maps of roads she'd travel line [G] with,
people throwing [D] stones, because they didn't [A] understand,
[G] that a half an hour [D] of tenderness, [A] perhaps they shared the shame.
[G] Working streets and [D] wedding rings, sometimes much the [A] same.
[G] [A#]
[F] [Gm] [D#]
[A#] [F] [Gm]
[D#] [D]
Key:
G
D
A
Bm
F#m
G
D
A
_ _ _ [F#m] _ _ [Bm] _ _ _
_ _ [G] _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
[A] _ _ [G] _ _ _ _ _ _
[D] Said she came from Portland, [Bm] where the ashen skies and leaden [G] ocean left her [D] like the local
boys, [A] barren [G] of emotion. _ _ _ _
[D] As we talked we watched the [Bm] raindrops running down the window, the laundromat [F#m] in Darlinghurst
[G] like a fish-ob from the [A] past. _ _ _
[G] And her mother [D] called her Mary, [A] after Mary Magdalene, _ _ [Bm] to deny [F#m] her beauty [G] would have been
the [A] greatest sin.
_ _ There [G] was a profile [D] in the neon [A] and a king's cross doorway [Bm] lean, [G] to a half an [D] hour of tenderness,
[A] half an [D] hour of someone [G] listening, half an hour [D] of tending [G] someone else's tangled [A] dream. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ [D] There were lines of sailors and lines of [Bm] speed, lines upon [D] the footpath as she [G] stared,
[D] when things were quiet, [A] as night deferred to [G] dawn.
_ _ _ [D] And the coat-cups played [C#] Red Rover [Bm] in the breeze that scuttled through the streets,
taxis [F#m] left for Grinnefield [G] while Sydney stretched and [A] yawned.
_ _ _ [G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene, there [Bm] were virgins [F#m] in the morning,
she [G] had sisters in the [A] pain.
_ _ _ [G] And the wives would clutch their [D] husbands [A] as they passed her on [Bm] the street, _ _
[G] perhaps it [D] was her honesty, [A] perhaps they shared the [D] shame.
_ [G] Working streets [D] and wedding rings, [G] sometimes [A] much the same, _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ [A#] _ _ _ [F] _ _ _
[Gm] _ _ [D#] _ _ _ [A#] _ _ _
[F] _ _ [Gm] _ _ _ [D#] _ _ _
_ _ [D] tap dance [C#m] for the buskers,
near [G] the subway [B] shouting blue songs they remembered, from their [D] teenage years [A] of Dreamtime [G] radio. _ _
_ [D] And the years withdrew behind her eyes, [Bm] let the little [Bm] girl look out,
simple childish [F#m] innocence, [G] a drawing in [A] the sand. _ _
_ [G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene,
she [Bm] had long dark hair and [F#m] massage oil [G] and a key to let you [A] in. _ _
_ [G] And the lines upon her [D] face were [A] maps of roads she'd travel line [G] with,
people throwing [D] stones, because they didn't [A] understand, _ _
_ [G] that a half an hour [D] of tenderness, [A] perhaps they shared the shame.
_ _ [G] Working streets and [D] wedding rings, sometimes much the [A] same. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ _ [A#] _ _ _
[F] _ _ [Gm] _ _ _ [D#] _ _ _
[A#] _ _ [F] _ _ _ [Gm] _ _ _
[D#] _ _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
_ _ [G] _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
[A] _ _ [G] _ _ _ _ _ _
[D] Said she came from Portland, [Bm] where the ashen skies and leaden [G] ocean left her [D] like the local
boys, [A] barren [G] of emotion. _ _ _ _
[D] As we talked we watched the [Bm] raindrops running down the window, the laundromat [F#m] in Darlinghurst
[G] like a fish-ob from the [A] past. _ _ _
[G] And her mother [D] called her Mary, [A] after Mary Magdalene, _ _ [Bm] to deny [F#m] her beauty [G] would have been
the [A] greatest sin.
_ _ There [G] was a profile [D] in the neon [A] and a king's cross doorway [Bm] lean, [G] to a half an [D] hour of tenderness,
[A] half an [D] hour of someone [G] listening, half an hour [D] of tending [G] someone else's tangled [A] dream. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ [D] There were lines of sailors and lines of [Bm] speed, lines upon [D] the footpath as she [G] stared,
[D] when things were quiet, [A] as night deferred to [G] dawn.
_ _ _ [D] And the coat-cups played [C#] Red Rover [Bm] in the breeze that scuttled through the streets,
taxis [F#m] left for Grinnefield [G] while Sydney stretched and [A] yawned.
_ _ _ [G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene, there [Bm] were virgins [F#m] in the morning,
she [G] had sisters in the [A] pain.
_ _ _ [G] And the wives would clutch their [D] husbands [A] as they passed her on [Bm] the street, _ _
[G] perhaps it [D] was her honesty, [A] perhaps they shared the [D] shame.
_ [G] Working streets [D] and wedding rings, [G] sometimes [A] much the same, _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ [A#] _ _ _ [F] _ _ _
[Gm] _ _ [D#] _ _ _ [A#] _ _ _
[F] _ _ [Gm] _ _ _ [D#] _ _ _
_ _ [D] tap dance [C#m] for the buskers,
near [G] the subway [B] shouting blue songs they remembered, from their [D] teenage years [A] of Dreamtime [G] radio. _ _
_ [D] And the years withdrew behind her eyes, [Bm] let the little [Bm] girl look out,
simple childish [F#m] innocence, [G] a drawing in [A] the sand. _ _
_ [G] And her mother called [D] her Mary, after [A] Mary Magdalene,
she [Bm] had long dark hair and [F#m] massage oil [G] and a key to let you [A] in. _ _
_ [G] And the lines upon her [D] face were [A] maps of roads she'd travel line [G] with,
people throwing [D] stones, because they didn't [A] understand, _ _
_ [G] that a half an hour [D] of tenderness, [A] perhaps they shared the shame.
_ _ [G] Working streets and [D] wedding rings, sometimes much the [A] same. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ _ [A#] _ _ _
[F] _ _ [Gm] _ _ _ [D#] _ _ _
[A#] _ _ [F] _ _ _ [Gm] _ _ _
[D#] _ _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _