Joanna Newsom - No Provenance chords



Am E G F Allelu, allelu:
AmI have died happy,
E G Fand lived to tell the tale to you.
AmI have slept for forty years,
E G Fand woke to find me gone.
Am G FI woke safe and warm in your arms.
C (C7)In your arms
F DmYour arms
G C B/CIn your arms
Am E G FNot informed of the natural law,
Am Esquatting, lordly, on a stool, in a stall,
G Fwe spun gold clear out of straw.
Am EAnd, when our bales of bullion
Gwere stored,
Fyou burned me like a barn.
Am G FI burned safe and warm in your arms.
C (C7)In your arms
F Your arms
Dm A I'm afraid of the Big Return.
D C#/D Bm GThere's a certain conversation lost,
F# Band that loss incurred
Dwith nobody remaining,
E Am Bb Ato register who had passed this way,
Din the night,
D C#/D Bmin the middle of the night
G F# B7(negating their grace and their sight),
D Etill only I remember, or mark,
Am Ehow we had our talk:
G FWe took our ride,
Amso that there was no-one home,
E Gand the lights of Rome
Fflickered and died.
And, what's more,
Am EI believe that you knew it, too;
G F I think you saw their flares,
Am G Fand kept me safely unawares,
C (C7)in your arms.
F DmIn your arms
G C B/CIn your arms.
Am E G FThe grass was tall, and strung with burrs,
AmI essayed that high sashay which,
E Gin my mind, was my way;
Fyou hung behind, in yours.
Am EAnyhow, she did not neigh.
I do not know
G Fwhat drew our eyes to hers;
Am G Fthat little black mare did not stir,
C Ftill I lay down in your arms.
Dm A D Poor old dirty little dog-size horse!
C#/D Bm Gswaying and wheezing,
F# Bas a matter of course;
D Eswaying and wheezing,
Am Bbas a matter of pride.
A D C#/D BmThat poor old nag, not four palms wide,
G F# B7had waited a long time,
D Ecoated in salt,
Am Bb A Dbuckled like a ship run foul of the fence.
D C#/D BmIn the middle of the night,
Gshe'd sprung up,
F# Bno provenance,
D E Ambearing the whites of her eyes.
Bb And you, with your
A D'arrangement' with Fate,
C#/D Bmnodded sadly at her lame assault
G F# Bon that steady old gate,
D E Am Eher faultlessly etiolated fishbelly-face;
G Fthe muzzle of a ghost.
AmAnd, pretty Johnny Appleseed,
Evia satellite feed,
G tell us, who was it
Fthat you then loved the most?
AmPretty Johnny Appleseed,
E Gleave a trail that leads
Fstraight back down to the farm.
Lay me down
Am G Fsafe and warm in your arms.
Am G AIn your arms.
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