Em D Dsus2 Em

[Verse]
C  D    Em               D            C    G   D Dsus4 E7
  Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel
C  D    Em         D           C           G   D Dsus4 E7
  Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel
       G    D         C         G
In the underpass, the blind man stands
     D          B7
With cold flute hands

F         C               A             D Dsus4
Symphony match-seller, breath out of time
        G             B7      Em
You can call me on another line

C  D    Em               D        C     G    D Dsus4
 Indian restaurants that curry my brain.
C    D     Em       D            C      G    D Dsus4
 Newspaper warriors changing the names
     G    D             F       G
they advertise from the station stand.
     D          B7
With cold print hands.
F        C            A                D     Dsus4
Symphony word-player, I'll be your headline.
       G          B7     Em
If you catch me another time.

[Chorus]
C       D  Dsus4                                E7 A7 E7
Didn't make her --- with my Baker Street Ruse.
E          D  Dsus4                                  E7 A7 E7
Couldn't shake her --- with my Baker Street Bruise.
E          D  D     Dsus4                              E7 A7 E7
Like to take her --- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse.

[Verse]
C    D     Em           D                 C     G    D Dsus4
 Ale-spew, puddle-brew, Boys, throw it up clean
C    D    Em      D            C     G    D Dsus4
 Coke and Bacardi colours them green
         G      D             C            G             C     B7
From the typing pool goes the mini-skirted princess with great finesse
F       C                         A                   D    Dsus4
Fertile earth-mother, your burial mound is fifty feet down
       G            B7          Em
in the Baker Street underground. (What the hell!)
C       D        Em     D        Dsus4
Walking down the gutter thinking
         G         B7
"How the hell am I today?"
C       D      Em         D       G              B7
Well, I didn't really ask you but thanks all the same


[Pygmy And The Whore]

F    C      G       F       C          G
Big bottled fraulein, put your weight on me
F       C              G
Said the pygmy to the whore
F        C              G     D               C       G
Desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain

        F    C      G               F       C          G
little man his youth a fountain overdrafted and still counting
F       C              G
vernacular verbose
    F               C    G       D               C       G
an attempt in getting close to where he came from

          F        C       G             F          C          G
in the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars
F       C  G    F  C     G
proposition deal, fly button feel
D       C        D              C       G
testicle testing, wallet ever bulging

F               C               G    F           C            G
dressed to the left divulging the wrinkles of his years
        F       C  G      F           C  G
wedding bell induced fears shedding bell end tears
          D               C               G
in the pocket of her resistance


       F          C  G                  F       C         G
international assistance flowing generous and full
    F            C       G
to his never-ready tool
              F       C        G
pulls his eyes over her wool

D                      C
and he shudders as he comes
D                      C                G                       D
and my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road


[Crash-Barrier Waltzer]
D

G                                                  Em
And here slip I --- dragging one foot in the gutter ---
D               Am          C                        D    Dsus4
in the midnight echo of the shop that sells cheap radios.

G                                            Em     D
And there sits she --- no bed, no bread, no butter ---
            Am             C                       D    Dsus4
on a double yellow line --- where she can park anytime.

G                               Em     D
Old Lady Grey; crash-barrier waltzer ---
                 Am    C              D    Dsus4
some only son's mother. Baker Street casualty.

G                                        Em     D
Oh, Mr. Policeman --- blue shirt ballet master.
                   Am         C                D    Dsus4
Feet in sticking plaster --- move the old lady on.

G                                          Em     D
Strange pas-de-deux --- his Romeo to her Juliet.
D              Am           C
Her sleeping draught, his poisoned regret.
     C             D         C        D                    G
No drunken bums allowed to sleep here in the crowded emptiness.

G                                     Em     D
Oh officer, let me send her to a cheap hotel ---
                       Am              C                    D    Dsus4
I'll pay the bill and make her well - like hell you bloody will!
C          D          C                   D                    G  Em
No do-good over kill. We must teach them to be still more independent.


[Mother England Reverie]

E

Em          D                C                    Em
I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone.
Em          D                C                    Em
I have no wish for wishing wells or wishing bones.
Em          D                C                     Em
I have no house in the country I have no motor car.
G                         D
And if you think I'm joking,
      C                                          Em
then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar.
Em                            D
And it seems there's no-body left for
 C                                      Em
tennis; and I'm a one-band-man.
G                         D   C                       Em
And I want no Top Twenty funeral or a hundred grand.


Em          D                     Em
There was a little boy stood on a burning log,
 G              D     Bm      B7
   rubbing his hands with glee.
G                         D
He said, ``Oh Mother England,
        Em           A   Am           C                    D  B7
  did you light my smile; or did you light this fire under me?
G                   D                     Em
One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery.
G                    D              B7
And paint you a picture of the queen.
     G              D          Em        A     Am
And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree ---
Am           C                    D  B7
it's just the nonsense that it seems.''
G                    D                      Em
So I drift down through the Baker Street valley,
G                    D      B7
in my steep-sided un-reality.
         G                D
And when all is said and all is done --- I couldn't wish
             Em A
for a better one.
Am        C                        D B7
E|t's| a real-life ripe dead certainty ---