Intro:  D  Em  F#m  G  x4

  D     Em          F#m    G
Sobriety  breeds sincerity,
    D     Em             F#m     G
And Lydia Pond she is my gravity
             D       Em            F#m         G
I don't know how she felt when she took that E,
           A
But in the morning she shaking, she was twitching, she was jerking.

On June the 5th she moved to Paris,
She could not stand the state of British politics,
And I just can't convince her that I'm socialist,
And every night I pray for mail in the morning.

Chorus:
D           A       D            A
Sweet Lydia Pond is doing it for me,
    D         A      Em  (F#m G)  A
And I want to sing a hymn for the postal service.
Sinful and proud since I stopped sleeping around,
I am so faithful now to Lydia's handwriting,

Mid 8:
     G
That makes me guess the circumstances under which she wrote it,
D
Why she used the f-word when she never, ever spoke it,
    Em
She pasted on a passport photo of herself in pigtails,
     A
And underneath she'd written, "Did my touch make you less lonely?"


Oh she promised me that we'd be creasing sheets,
And that our bodies would be bruising, wrestling underneath,
And I wanted to ask her how she cut her teeth,
And why she let time slip through her skinny, skinny fingers.