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The Loving Kind


Open G tuning; Capo 1st fret G - C/G - G G - D - G C/G - G D7 - G G C/G G D G She wakes from an endless dream, fairy tales and nursery rhymes. C/G G Em D Alone, she combs her hair, hopes her dreams will fade. G C/G G D G She has no time for sympathy, views the world so cynically. C/G G D7 G When asked why the poets died, she turns her face away. G D For she's not the loving kind; she hasn't got the time. C G D7 G She sees her vision fade and turns her face away.

One kiss from a painter's breath, a dirge is whistled at his death.
The crowd, it gathers 'round to see the apples fall.
And the moon wails from up on high; there's no one left to paint the sky.
And now the empty easel stands its back against the wall.

For he's not the loving kind; he never paid no mind.
There are no flowers in his hair, no dirt upon his grave.

Well, yesterday's Times today I read how Sgt. Pepper never played
And all the elephants passed away, still nobody cried.
Well, take them categorically, then even Santa Claus ain't free.
What's good for you is bad for me; I guess the papers lied.

For I'm not the loving kind; I haven't got the time.
My fingers have turned to brass; my eyes have turned to clay.

(Words and music by Patrick Sky, 1967)


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