Those Dancing Days Are Gone

Tom: F#

F#          Bbm              B
Come, let me sing into your ear;
       Db               F#
Those dancing days are gone,
        Bbm             B
All the silk and satin gear;
Db             Bbm
Crouch upon a stone
                     Abm
Wrapping that foul body up
      Db      F#
In as foul a rag:
            Bbm             Abm  \
I carry the sun in a golden cup   \ 2x
    Db               F#           /  
The moon in a silver bag.        /


Repete a mesma seqüência de notas nas duas estrofes abaixo:
(F# Bbm B Db F# Bbm B Db Bbm Abm Db F# Bbm Abm Db F#)    

Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup \ 2x
The moon in a silver bag.       /

(Come let me sing into your ear)
I thought it out this very day,
Noon upon the clock,
(All that silk and satin gear)
A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
may sing, and sing until he drop
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup 
The moon in a silver bag...