Fools

     F#m                          
 All in the golden afternoon full 
A
leisurely we glide
     B                         
 For both our oars, with little 
           D
skill, by little arms are plied
      F#m                    
 While little hands make vain 
      A
pretence our wanderings to guide
      B          D
 Our wanderings to guide

     F#m                          
 Ah, Cruel Three ! in such an hour, 
A
beneath such dreamy weather
      B                            
 To beg a tale of breath too weak  
        D
to stir the tiniest feather
      F#m                          
 Yet what can one poor voice avail 
A
against three tongues together
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      B                   D
 Against three tongues together

     F#m                        
 Anon, to sudden silence won, in 
  A
fancy they pursue
      B                          
 The dream child moving through a 
          D
land of wonders wild and new
      F#m                          
 In friendly chat with bird or beast
A
 - and half believe it true
      B            D
 And half believe it true

     F#m                          
 And ever, as the story drained the 
A
wells of fancy dry
      B                            
 And faintly strove that weary one 
        D
to put the subject by
      F#m                          
 "The next time -- it is next time" 
A
the happy voices cry !
      B           D
 The happy voices cry !

     F#m                          
 Thus grew the tale of wonderland, 
A
thus slowly one by one
      B                          
 It's quaint events were hammered 
          D
out - and now the tale is done
      F#m                A
 And home we steer a merry crew
      B              D
 Beneath the setting sun.