#This file is the author’s own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#——————————————————————————##
From: Phillip Charles Saunders
Beeswing
Richard Thompson, from the album Mirror Blue
transcribed by Phil Saunders ([email protected])
tuning (DADGBE), capo 3rd fret
I’ve been working on this lovely acoustic ballad for a while. The
transcription is not perfect, especially on the chorus, but should be
close enough to get you in the ballpark. I have not attempted to
transcribe the solo. Corrections/Additions cheerfully welcomed, so long
as critics take the difficulty of transcribing something like this into
account. The chord names are written with the capo in mind; the song is
actually in F, but is transcribed here in D. I usually play the B on
the low A string by hammering on, which gives a little extra nuance.
(This is why the D chords are notated as D (D6)). You can also throw in
the low D string on the verse to add extra drive. Оn the chorus, I’mm
not quite sure if I really hear the low G on the G chord—the B is
certainly there, but I can’t tell about the G.
Chords
D (000232)
D6 (020232)
A (X0222X)
G (5X0003X)
Bm (X24432)
Intro (and start of verses)
-|-0—0h2p0——————————————-0——2—-|
-|————3p0—0—————————0—2—3——0——0-|
-|——————-3———3———3————————-|
-|-2———————3———3———3————2——0—-|
-|—————-2———0———2———2——————-|
-|—————————————————————|
-|-0—0h2p0——————————————-0——2—-|————|
-|————3p0—0—————————0—2—3——0——0-|-0——0—-|
-|——————-3———3———3————————-|————|
-|-2———————3———3———3————2——0—-|-0——0—2-|
-|—————-2———0———2———2——————-|—-0——-|
-|—————————————————————|————|
Verse
D
-|————————|————————|————————|
-|-3———————|-3———————|-3———————|
-|-2—2—-2——2——2-|-2—2—-2——2——2-|-2—2—-2——2——2-|
-|-0———————|-0———-0———-|-0———————|
-|——h2———h2—-|——h2——0—-h2—-|——h2———-h2—-|
-|————0———-|————————|————0———-|
A G
-|—————————————-|
-|———————-3————3——|
-|-2——2———0———0——0——0—|
-|-2———2——0———0——0——0—|
-|-0—0———0—————————|
-|—————-5—5———5————|
Chorus
Bm A/C# D (D6) G A G/B A/C#
-|——————|————————|——————————|
-|-3———3——|-3———————|——————————|
-|-4—0—0—-2—|-2—2—-2——2——2-|—0——2——0——2—0——|
-|—4—4———|-0———-0———-|—0—0—0—0—0—0—2—0——|
-|-2———2—4—|——2——0——2—-|—2——0——2——4———|
-|——————|————————|—5—————————|
D (D6) Bm A/C# D (D6)
-|————————-|——————|————————|
-|-3————————|-3———3——|-3———————|
-|-2—2——2——2——2—|-4—0—0—-2—|-2—2—-2——2——2-|
-|-0——0——0——0——|—4—4———|-0———-0———-|
-|————-0————|-2———2—4—|——2——0——2—-|
-|————————-|——————|————————|
G A G/B A/C# D A/C#
-|——————————|————————|
-|——————————|-3————2———-|
-|—0——2——0——2—0——|-2—2——2——2——2-|
-|—0—0—0—0—0—0—2—0——|-0——0————0—-|
-|—2——0——2——4———|————-4———-|
-|—5—————————|————————|
G A G/B A/C# D
-|——————————|——————————|
-|——————————|-3—————3————-|
-|—0——2——0——2—0——|-2—2——2——2————-|
-|—0—0—0—0—0—0—2—0——|-0——0———0————-|
-|—2——0——2——4———|——————————|
-|—5—————————|————-0—————-|
Intro
Verse
D (D6)
I was nineteen when I came to town
They called it the summer of love
They were burning babies, burning flags
A G
The Hawks against the Doves
D (D6)
I took a job in the steamie
Down on Caldrum Street
I fell in love with a laundry girl
A G
Was working next to me
Chorus
Bm A/C# D
She was a rare thing, fine as a Beeswing
G A G/B A/C# D
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
Bm A/C# D
She was a lost child, she was running wild
G A G/B A/C# D A/C#
She said, as long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay
G A G/B A/C# D
And you wouldn’t want me any other way
Brownhair zig zag round her face
And a look of half surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights
There was animal in her eyes
She said young man, О can’t you see
I’m not the factory kind
If you don’t take me out of here
I’ll surely lose my mind
She was a rare thing, fine as a Beeswing
So fine that I might crush her where she lay
She was a lost child, she was running wild
She said, as long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay
And you wouldn’t want me any other way
We busked around the market towns
And picked fruit down in Kent
And we could tinker lamps and pots
And knives wherever we went
And I said that we might settle down
Get a few acres dug
Fire burning in the hearth
And babies on the rug
She said О man, you foolish man
That surely sounds like hell
You might be lord of half the world
You’ll not own me as well
She was a rare thing, fine as a Beeswing
So fine a breathe of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, she was running wild
She said, as long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay
And you wouldn’t want me any other way
We was camping down the Gower one time
The work was pretty good
She thought we shouldn’t wait for the frost
And I thought maybe we should
We were drinking more in those days
And tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run
With the rambling itch
D
last I hear she’s sleeping out
Back on the Darby beat
White horse in her hip pocket
And a wolfhound at her feet
And they say she even married once
A man named Romany Brown
But even a gypsy caravan
Was too much settling down
And they say her flower is faded now
Hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that’s just the price you pay
For the chains you refuse
She was a rare thing, fine as a Beeswing
So fine that I might crush her where she lay
And I miss her more than words could ever say
If I could just taste, All of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
Then I wouldn’t want her any other way
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