Surging Out Of Convalescence Acordes

	  

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Darts in soap operas, oh so wrong, oh so wrong 
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No one's scoring and there's too much chat between easch throw 
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Worse than this though is when cheers are raised for the bull 
                                D 
Granted, bull's a double and an out but I know that they don't 
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Know their boards; I propose no soap darts. 
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Is your child hyperactive or is he perhaps a twat? 
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Sometimes I like to watch wave rage down on Fistral Beach 
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Last Ash Wednesday I had tantric sex and it was shit 
                          D 
Next Ash Wednesday I might strive to lick my elbow; 
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Strive in vain, for they say few succeed. 
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I wrote to the Horse and Hounds to gloat over whay I'd done 
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I stored their magazine in a data retrieval system 
G 
Well let's face it what're they going to do? 
D 
It's not as if they know where I live 
    G                      D 
And anyway I cut the caper back in 1984 
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Heartbroken Matrons on joyless beds 
    G                D 
For those whose souls the iron has entered 
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And if I get to Heaven's gate I'll doubtless have to wait 
G                           D 
While St. Peter investigates the inevitable asterisk 
    G                            D 
The inside of a Halex Three Star table-tennis ball 
G                        D               G 
Smells much like you'd expect it to.