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Baker St Muse by Jethro Tull
Baker St Muse
Tuning:E A D G B E
Capo:2nd fret
[Intro]
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
It's a real-life ripe dead certainty ---
N.C.
that I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
(I can't get out!)
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