C D/C We were gathered on a Thursday Fm C To see the two out of five C D/C Pitch your newly pressed pop record Fm C And the room was well inside C D/C Until the faithful got the bends Fm C And you never made amends C D/C For the fielding error on the call Fm C To play your best known song of all [Chorus] D I wanted to hate you Fm C That was my first choice D I wanted to hate you Fm C Until I heard your voice C D/C Fm C [Verse 2] C D/C My, how rude, so impolite Fm C All this on your night of nights C D/C Little man of smallish frame Fm C Crushed beneath your pop band name C D/C Your table manners left behind Fm C In an Oxford flat at suppertime C D/C You came of range on center stage Fm C Now sleep's not all your losing [Chorus] D I wanted to hate you Fm C That was my first choice D I wanted to hate you Fm C Until I heard your voice D When I heard your voice Fm C I could ignore your face D When I heard your voice Fm Tom with a "TH" [Interlude] G A Cm G G A Cm G G A Cm G G A Cm G Fm/B C Fm/B Am D Bm C D Bm C D Bm C D Bm C Am Bb Bb C D Fm C C D Fm C [Outro] C D/C Let the ass bray Fm C Make the punters pay C D/C Let the ass bray Fm C Make the punters pay C D/C Let the ass bray Fm C Make the punters pay C D/C Let the ass bray Fm C Make the punters pay... C D/C Fm C C D/C Fm C C D/C Fm C C D/C Fm C
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