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A Gift of Roses   Jethro Tull

I count the hours[F], you co[C]unt the days togethe[G]r,
we co[F]unt the minutes in this passion play[G]. [F] [//////]
Walk dusty miles, [F]and I rid[C]e that train, [G]
on a fi[F]rst class tick[C]et, just to be with[G] you again. [F] [//////]
(Chorus)
Picking up tired[D] feet,[G] back [D]from a far horizon, [G]
Cleaned up and brushed d[D]own, dresse[G]d to loo[D]k the part. [C]
[D]Fresh from God's garden, [G]I bring a gi[D]ft of roses [G]
     [D]                             [G]  [D]to stand in sweet spring [C]water and press them to your heart.
Like the Kipling cat, I[F] walk al[C]one, [G]
never invit[F]ing trou[C]ble, never casting [G]the stone. [F]
But this badge of honour is of tarnished tin[C], [G]
light your guid[F]ing beacon[C] to bring this[G] fisher in. [F]
(Chorus)
(Chorus)

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