Queen In The Sport Of Kings

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You had us fooled little lady on the street
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wearing deathly grey and shuffling your feet
C                           G             F         G
With your eyes fixed on the footpath we’d often say hello
       F               C           G          C
But your mind was on a replay of a story long ago

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Seventeen she was like all the stars that shined
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The prettiest of all in a touring chorus line
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When she was dancing she was riding on the sky
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From Australia to New Zealand she kicked her heals up high

F           C            G                   C
Why did she let that man steal her from the wings
F                  C               G                    C
She looked so good beside him be a Queen in a sport of Kings
F                  C            G       C
To sip the good old bubbly be a punters toast
      F              C                G
To cheer the winning satins past the post

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A man trained all the good horses see the pictures on the wall
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Pictures in the kitchen and pictures in the hall
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Horses that were famous all the time without a fear
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O’Conner was the big time the trainer of the year

F           C            G                  C
Why did she let that man steal her from the wings
F                  C               G                   C
She looked so good beside him be a Queen in a sport of Kings
F                  C            G       C
To sip the good old bubbly be a punters toast
      F              C                  G
To cheer the winning satins past the post

C                 G       F             G
Would she keep on dancing surely nature gest
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She posts the big-time punters and the squatters from out west
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They land home in their limousine and drink a whisky dry
         F         C          G        C
And brag about the nags from Scone to Boggabri

F           C            G                  C
Why did she let that man steal her from the wings
F                  C               G                   C
She looked so good beside him be a Queen in a sport of Kings
F                  C            G       C
To sip the good old bubbly be a punters toast
      F              C               G
To cheer the winning satins past the post

C          G             F           G
She had us fooled little lady on the street
C               G        F            G
wearing deathly grey and shuffling her feet
C                           G            F        G
With her eyes fixed on the footpath we’d often say hello
        F             C           G          C
But her mind was on a replay of a story long ago

Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.