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From: larpe@oden.nts.mh.se (Petter Larsson)

Fourth Time Around  -  Bob Dylan
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('Blonde on Blonde' album)


F        Bb        F        Bb

F    Bb               F           Bb                 F        Bb             F
When she said, "Don't waste your words, they're just lies," I cried she was deaf.
          Bb         F            Bb             F              Bb               F
And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes, Then said, "What else you got left?"
        Am                                                     Gm
It was then that I got up to leave But she said, "Don't forget,
      F         Bb                F     Bb                 F    Bb    F    Bb
Ev'rybody must give something back For something they get."


F   Bb            F           Bb          F        Bb             F
I stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum and asked her how come.
        Bb           F            Bb                 F          Bb               F
And she buttoned her boot, And straightened her suit, Then she said, "Don't get cute."
     Am                                                     Gm
So I forced my hands in my pockets And felt with my thumbs,
    F          Bb          F      Bb                 F    Bb    F    Bb
And gallantly handed her My very last peice of gum.


F     Bb         F        Bb          F         Bb           F
She threw me outside, I stood in the dirt where ev'ry-one walked.
    Bb            F      Bb              F    Bb            F
And after finding I'd Forgotten my shirt, I went back and knocked.
  Am                                                                   Gm
I waited in the hallway, she went to get it, And I tried to make sense,
             F         Bb               F             Bb                 F    Bb    F    Bb
Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair That leaned up against...


F   Bb       F        Bb           F      Bb              F
Her Jamaican rum And when she did come, I asked her for some.
    Bb         F                Bb                     F             Bb             F
She said, "No, dear." I said, "Your words aren't clear, You'd better spit out your gum."
    Am                                                             Gm
She screamed  till her face got so red, Then she fell on the floor,
      F            Bb              F          Bb                       F    Bb    F    Bb
And I covered her up and then Thought I'd go look through her drawer.


F     Bb        F           Bb         F        Bb             F
And when I was through, I filled up my shoe And brought it to you.
         Bb          F    Bb               F    Bb            F
And you, you took me in, You loved me then, You didn't waste time.
         Bb         F              Bb                   F      Bb               F   Bb   F
And I, I never took much, I never asked for your crutch, Now don't ask for mine.

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Typed by  Petter Larsson , larpe@nts.mh.se