The Fox, the Crow and the Cookie mewithoutYou
[A]
[Bm]Through mostly vacant streets a [F#m]Baker from the outskirts of his [A]town
earned his living peddling [E]sweets from a ragged cart he dragged [Bm]around.
The clever Fox crept close behind, k[F#m]ept an ever watchful [A]eye
for a chance to steal a ginger [E]spicecake or a boysenberry [Bm]pie.
[Bm]Looking down was the hungry Crow: W[F#m]hen the time is right I'll [A]strike
and condescend to the [E]earth below and take whichever treat I [Bm]like!
The moment the Baker turned around to [F#m]shoo the Fox off from his [A]cart,
the Crow swooped down and snatched a [E]shortbread cookie and a German chocolate [A]tart.
[A]Using most unfriendly [E]words that the village children had not yet [D]heard,
the Baker shouted threats by [E]Canzonet to curse the crafty [A]bird:
You rotten wooden mixing [E]spoon! Why, you midnight winged [D]raccoon!
You'd better bring those pastries [E]back, you no good, burnt-black-ma[A]caroon!!!
[Bm]The Fox approached the tree [F#m]where the bird was perched, delighted, in his [A]nest:
Brother Crow, don't you remember [E]meā?? It's your old friend Fox with a humbl[Bm]e request.
If you could share just a modest piece, [F#m]seeing as I distracted that awful [A]man...
This failed to persuade the Crow in the [E]least, so the Fox rethought his [Bm]plan:
[Bm]Then, if your lovely song would grace my [F#m]ears, or, to even hear you [A]speak
would ease my pains and [E]fears. The Crow looked down with the candy in his [Bm]beak.
Your poems of wisdom, my Good [F#m]Crow, what a paradise they [A]bring!
This flattery pleased the proud bird [E]so he opened his mouth and began to s[A]ing:
[A]Your subtle acclamation's [E]true, best to give praise where praise is [D]due.
Every rook and jay in the [E]corvidae has been Raven about me [A]too!
They admire me, one and [E]all, must be the passion in my [D]'Caw',
my slender bill, known through [E]the escadrille, my fierce, commanding [A]claw...
Bridge: Bm A Bm A Bm A D E
[A]Ah, I've got a walnut-brownie-[E]brain and molasses in my [D]veins,
crushed graham cracker crust, my [E]powdered sugar funnelcake [A]cocaine.
Let the crescent cookie [E]rise! These carob-colored Almond [D]eyes
would rest to see my cashew [E]princess in the swirling marble [A]sky.
We'll rest upon the [E]knee where all divisions cease to [D]be
and rootbeer float in our [E]banana boat across the tapioca [A]sea.
When letting all attachments [E]go is the only prayer we [D]know.
May it be so, may it be [E]so, may it be so, [A]oh...
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