Intro:   G   D   C  (C-B-A-G) 
 
 G                   C                       G  C    G             Em                   D             C 
My own tears scald me like rivers of molten lead and I am bound, bound to the rack of fire like you said 
          G  (n.c.) 
So long ago, like a trembling little taffeta schoolgirl in the local townhall production of Oklahoma 
 G                       C                                     G       C     G                                            
These things have a habit, they have a habit of repeating themselves,        the tragedy of an old man,  
Em                                                 D                   C        G     (n.c.) 
The  ingratitude  from  the  children  whom  he  loved  we  know  it  well and 
The only thing that keeps our sanity intact is the fool's wit in the annual townhall production of Oklahoma 
  G                   C                                                             G   C     G                       
Let's  take  Grandpa,   but  sit  him  by  the  aisle  because  he's  liable  to  fart 
                    Em                                         D                        C      G  (n.c.)                 
He likes his Jaffas,   but he's a nuisance when he starts to shake,   he  drops  them  all 
And inevitably heads will turn, and there's hell to pay,  because he's let off  
During the song about the Surrey in Oklahoma and the only thing that keeps our sanity intact  
Is  the  fool's  wit  in  the  annual  townhall  production  of  Oklahoma 
 
      C                                            G 
     Watch that fringe and see how it flutters,  when I drive them high stepping strutters 
      D                                                                 Am7         C     
     Nosey  pokes  will  peek  through  their  shutters,   and  their  eyes  will  pop 
           Em7                       A7                      D 
     The wheels are yellow,   the upholstery's brown,   the dashboard's genuine leather 
          Em7                         A7                 Am7                          D7        D       Dm7 
     With icinglass curtains you can roll right down in case there's a change in the weather, weather, weather 
 
  G                            C                                            G     C    G                 
Then  one  day  you  discover,   that   your   poor   old   Daddy   is   dead 
               Em                                                D                C       G (hold)  n.c. 
What can I say,   I can't say nothing that hasn't already been said,   said much better 
All I can do is laugh my head off  and cry my heart out at the giggly girls in taffeta dresses 
In the annual townhall production of Oklahoma,  then go to the funeral wearing dark glasses  
Acknowledging the grief of all those in the scenery     G           D             C  G 
In   next   week's   production   of   Oklahoma,        Oh'oh'oh'oh'oh-oh-oh-kla-ho-ma.