Carla Bruni - At Last The Secret It Out chords

Chords:
Transpose
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| Carla Bruni- At Last The Secret Is Out |
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"The tongue has its desire..."


Tuning: Standard

Capo on 1st fret

Chords:

F:     133211
G:     320003
A7:    x02020
Bm:    x24430
C:     x32010
Dsus2: xx0230



Intro1.e|-----3-3----3-3----3-3----3-3--|B|-----3-3----3-3----3-3----3-3--|G|-------------------------------|D|--3~---------------------------|A|---------3~--------------------|E|----------------3~-----3~------|
F C G Verse
F C At last the secret is out,
G F C Gas it always must come in the end,
F C Gthe delicious story is ripe to tell
F C Gto the intimate friend;
Chorus
Bm Cover the tea-cups and into the square
Dsus2 Gthe tongue has its desire;
Bm Cstill waters run deep, my dear,
Dsus2 Gthere's never smoke without fire.
Bm CBehind the corpse in the reservoir,
Dsus2 Gbehind the ghost on the links,
Bm Cbehind the lady who dances
Dsus2 F C Gand the man who madly drinks,
Verse
F Cunder the look of fatigue
D F C Gthe attack of migraine and the sigh
F Cthere is always another story,
G F C Gthere is more than meets the eye.
Chorus
Bm CFor the clear voice suddenly singing,
Dsus2 Ghigh up in the convent wall,
Bm Cthe scent of the elder bushes,
Dsus2 Gthe sporting prints in the hall,
Bm Cthe croquet matches in summer,
Dsus2 G Bmthe handshake, the cough, the kiss,
C A7the kiss, the kiss
Bm Cthere is always a wicked secret,
Dsus2 Ga private reason for this
Bm - C - D - G Outro F - C - G - G Please rate thanks! Lyrics: At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, the delicious story is ripe to tell to tell to the intimate friend; over the tea-cups and into the square the tongues has its desire; still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire. Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, under the look of fatigue the attack of migraine and the sigh there is always another story, there is more than meets the eye. For the clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall, the scent of the elder bushes, the sporting prints in the hall, the croquet matches in summer, the handshake, the cough, the kiss, there is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this +++++++++++ | Raileff | +++++++++++
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