Joan Shelley - My only trouble

^GOnce we stretched out so fair My hand here, your mouth there As the^C fog stepped ^Emaround us There was^C hay in your hair.

And the^G salt of our skin Brined the clay there within It was ^Cmine that would ^Emharden And^C then cease to bend.

^GWhen my only trouble When my only trouble ^CWhen my only ^Dtrouble ^GIs you.

^GNow I stand at the wood Where the wind bends the pines And the^C place where you ^Emloved me Wears the ^Cmark of our spines.

^GBut when spring still shows Brings the tulip and the rose Well, ^Cthen no one will ^Empity A ^Cgirl in the throes.

^GWhen my only trouble… ^GNow I won't scorn the god Who had thickened the fog, He's^C the one that brings th^Eme thunder When^C that's all I've got.

^GWhen my only trouble…