Fiction The Lucksmiths
Lucksmiths ? Ficiton (from Warmer Corners.)
Written down here, gentle reader
It seems [G]too good to be true
But there?s a g[C]irl in Kansas City
With my [G]favourite tattoo
Oh [Am]why would I [C]lie to y[G]ou?
This was [C]in another century
Somewhere [G]near the summer?s end
The [C]fahrenheit was frightening
I was [G]awake the whole weekend
In[C]vited to a barbecue
I found [G]refuge in the kitchen
Discussing p[C]ost-war US literature
With a girl whose [G]upper arm read ?fiction?
Like it [Am]might have bee[C]n type[G]written
C G ? C G
When I [C]asked her its significance
She said she [G]sometimes took reminding
What she [C]wanted to be doing
Whether [G]reading it or writing
I adm[C]itted admiration
For both [G]typeface and intent
And said more s[C]oftly ? sotto voce ?
I knew [G]too well what she meant
She just [Am]smiled and in [C]a while she [G]went
[Dm]For a time I [Am]forgot this ever took [G]place
She left her bottle on the bookca[C]se
G ? C G ? C G ? C G ? C G ? C G
So though I l[C]eave you little option
But to [G]take me at my word
I as[C]sure you, dearest listener
That it [G]happened as you?ve heard
A bee[C]r left on a bookshelf
At a [G]bygone barbecue
By a g[C]irl from Kansas City
With my [G]favourite tattoo
Oh [Am]why would I l[C]ie to you[G]?
Oh [Am]why would I l[C]ie to you[G]?
Oh [Am]why would I l[C]ie?[G]
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