VERSE 1:
[B] I was 18 when I came to town, they called it the summer of love
They were [B] burning babies burning flags, the [F#] hawks against the [E] doves
[B] I took a job at the steaming, way down on Caltrim Street
And I [B] fell in love with a laundry girl that was [F#] workin' next to [E] me

VERSE 2:
[B] Brown hair zig zagged around her face and a look of half surprise
Like a [B] fox caught in the headlights, there was [F#] animal in her [E] eyes
She [B] said to me, oh can't you see, I'm not the factory kind
And if [B] you don't take me out of here, [F#] I'll lose my [E] mind

CHORUS:
She was a [G#m] rare thing, as fine as a [B] bee's wing
So [G#m] fine a breath of [F#] wind might blow her a-[E]-way
She was a [G#m] lost child, she was [B] runnin' wild
She said so [G#m] long as there's no [F#] price on love I'll [E] stay
You [C#m] wouldn't want me [F#] any other [E] way

VERSE 3:
We [B] busked around the market towns, fruit pickin', down in Kent,
[B] We could tinker pots and pans and [F#] knives wherever we [E] went
And I [B] said to her, we'll settle down and get a few acres dug
With a [B] fire burning in the hearth and [F#] babies on the [E] rug

PRE-CHORUS:
She said, [G#m] oh man, you foolish man that [F#] surely sounds like [B] hell
You [B] might be lord of half the world, you'll [F#] not own me as [E] well

CHORUS 2:
She was a [G#m] rare thing, as fine as a [B] bee's wing
So [G#m] fine a breath of [F#] wind might blow her a-[E]-way
She was a [G#m] lost child, she was [B] runnin' wild
She said so [G#m] long as there's no [F#] price on love I'll [E] stay
You [C#m] wouldn't want me [F#] any other [E] way

BREAK: [over VERSE]

VERSE 4:
We were [B] campin down the Gower one time when the work was mighty good
[B] She wouldn't wait for the harvest, [F#] I thought we [E] should
We were [B] drinking more in those days, our tempers reached a pitch
Like a [B] fool I let her run away [F#] when she took the rambling [E] itch

VERSE 5:
And the [B] last I heard she's living rough back in the Derby beat
A [B] bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a [F#] Wolfhound at her [E] feet
And they [B] say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown
[B] Even a gypsy caravan was too [F#] much like settlin' [E] down

PRE-CHORUS 3:
They [G#m] say her rose has faded, [F#] rough weather and hard [B] booze
[B] Maybe that's the price you pay for the [F#] chains that you [E] refuse

CHORUS 3:
She was a [G#m] rare thing, as fine as a [B] bee's wing
I [G#m] miss her more than [F#] ever words can [E] say
[G#m] If I could just taste all of her [B] wildness now
[G#m] If I could hold [F#] her in my arms [E] today
[C#m] I wouldn't want [F#] her any other [E] way

BREAK: [over VERSE]