调：A major•
Verse 1
they called it the summer of love
Burning babies burning flags
way down on Caltrim St.
And they fell in love with a laundry girl
Verse 2
and a look of half surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights
I'm not the factory kind
And if you don't take me out of here,
Chorus 1
F#m
A
She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
Verse 3
fruit pickin', down in Kent
We could tinker pots and pans
and the work was mighty good
She wouldn't wait for the harvest,
Verse 4
and get a few acres dug
A fire burning in the hearth
Chorus 2
F#m
A
She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
Verse 5
our tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run away
back on the Derby beat
With a bottle of White Horse in her pocket,
Verse 6
to a man called Romany Brown
Even a gypsy caravan
Chorus 3
F#m
A
She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
F#m
E
D
If I could hold her in my arms today
Chorus 4
F#m
A
She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
F#m
E
D
If I could hold her in my arms today
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