Ebba Forsberg - Take this waltz

Now in ^FVienna there's ^Dmten pretty women There's a ^Fshoulder where ^Dmdeath comes to cry There's a ^Bblobby with nine^C hundred windows There's a ^Bbtree where the dove^Fs go ^C to die There's a ^Dmpiece that was ^Dmtorn from the morning And it ^Bbhangs in the Gal^Bblery of Frost ^BbAy, a^Fy, ay, ay Take this ^Awaltz,^Dm take this waltz Take this ^Bbwaltz with the cl^Bbmamp on its jaws

Oh, I ^Fwant you, I ^Dmwant you, I want you On a ^Fchair with a ^Dmdead magazine In the ^Bbcave at the tip ^Cof the lily In some ^Bbhallways where love^F's n^Ce-ver been On a ^Dmbed where the ^Dmmoon has been sweating In a ^Bbcry filled with foo^Bbtsteps and sand ^BbAy, a^Fy, ay, ay Take this ^Awaltz,^Dm take this waltz Take its ^Bbbroken wa^Bbmist in your hand

This ^Dmwaltz, this ^Dmwaltz, this waltz, this waltz With its ^Bbvery own bre^Fath of brandy and death ^ADragging it^Bbs tail ^Bbmin the sea

There's a ^Fconcert ^Dmhall in Vienna Where your ^Fmouth had a ^Dmthousand reviews There's a ^Bbbar where the boys^C have stopped talking They've been ^Bbsentenced to deat^Fh ^Cby the blues Ah, but ^Dmwho is it ^Dmclimbs to your picture With a ^Bbgarland of fre^Bbshly cut tears? ^BbAy, a^Fy, ay, ay Take this ^Awaltz,^Dm take this waltz Take this ^Bbwaltz, it's been dy^Bbming for years

There's an ^Fattic where ^Dmchildren are playing Where I've ^Fgot to lie ^Dmdown with you soon In a ^Bbdream of Hungari^Can lanterns In the ^Bbmist of some swe^Fet ^Caf-ter-noon And I'll ^Dmsee what you've ^Dmchained to your sorrow All your ^Bbsheep and your lil^Bbies of snow ^BbAy, a^Fy, ay, ay Take this ^Awaltz,^Dm take this waltz With its "I'll ^Bbnever forge^Bbmt you, you know!"

This ^Dmwaltz, this ^Dmwaltz, this waltz, this waltz With its ^Bbvery own bre^Fath of brandy and death ^ADragging it^Bbs tail^Bbm in the sea

I'll be ^Fwearing a ^Dmriver's disguise The ^Bbhyacinth wild^C on my shoulder My ^Bbmouth on the dew ^Fof your thighs And I'll ^Fbury my ^Dmsoul in a scrapbook With the ^Fphotographs ^Dmthere and the moss And I'll ^Bbyield to the floo^Cd of your beauty My ^Bbcheap violin ^Fan^Cd my cross And you'll ^Dmcarry me ^Dmdown on your dancing To the ^Bbpools that you lif^Bbt on your wrist Oh, ^Bbmy love^F, oh, my love Take this ^Awaltz,^Dm take this waltz It's ^Bbyours now, it's all^Bbm that there is