span>C Em Am
The guilty undertaker sighs, the lonesome organ grinder cries, the silver
G
saxophones say I should refuse you.
F G
The cracked bells and washed up horns, blow into my face with scorn, but
Am G
it's not that way, I wasn't born to loose you.
C Em Am G
I want you, I want you, yes I want you, so bad.
C
Honey I want you
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