| F#m | C#maj7 | |
| Once there was a boy who left the bed he | slept in. |
| F#m | C#maj7 | |
| And he ran away 'cause he felt life was | cruel. |
| D | Bm | |
| A killer of | fools was walking close be | hind him. |
| F#m | C#m | F# | |
| The boy was afraid that | he'd be thought a | fool. |
| D | Bm | |
| Oh the | foolkiller is a | giant they say. |
| D | G | D | D7 | |
| He | chops down a fool and he | goes on his | wa-ay- | ay. |
| G | F#m | G | F#m | |
| Better runaway | boy was | a runaway | boy. |
| G | A | F#m | |
| Very | much | like | you. |
| So he climed the hills and roamed the woods and valleys. |
| Just get up and go became his golden rule. |
| A killer of fools was walking in the shadows. |
| The boy was afraid that he'd be thought a fool. |
| Then there came a day a man and woman found him. |
| Lovingly they smiled and then they called him son. |
| No more did he fear that wicked old fool killer. |
| I know that it's true because I was the one |
| Oh the foolkiller is a giant they say. |
| He chops down a fool and he goes on his wa-ay-ay. |
| Well who was the fool tell me the boy in his bed |
| Or the boy who used to roam |
| Runaway boy listen, runaway boy better go on home. |
| by: José Duarte |
| jtduarte1@netcabo.pt |