In the wee small hours of sixpence    (video)

 

                 C                          Fm                       C                   Fm

1. In the wee small hours of sixpence and the lighted chandelier,

                    Dm  Em    F       - C                   Fm                           C

    stands a rusty old retainer,      whose old eyes are filled with tears.

                   C                       Fm                    C                   Fm

    For his master, good Sir Gallant, who is now off to the wars,

                 Dm         Em            F       - C                  Fm                   C

    and although his eyes are crying,       we know grief is not the cause.

 

             F       Fm       C                        F        Fm        C

And if grief is not the reason, he must be of sterner stuff,

                 F                               Dm                   G              G7      G     - G7

and his sword, through old and rusty must be blunt and sharp enough.

 

                C                           Fm                         C                   Fm

2. In the wee small hours of sixpence and the broken windowpane,

                    Dm          Em      F           - C                  Fm               C

    stand the remnants of the evening,        who are waiting all in vain.

                   C                   Fm                        C                  Fm

    For the crowing of the cockerel sure as morning is not night,

                Dm   Em           F          - C                Fm                     C

    but the air is filled with silence,        and the day bright is not light.

 

               F          Fm      C                       F         Fm        C

But still darkness is no reason, we are men of sterner stuff,

                 F                                Dm                  G             G7       G    - G7

and our swords, though old and rusty still are blunt and sharp enough.

 

+  D - Bm - D - Bm    - G - Em - A - A7 - A - A7

 

                D                          Gm                         D                     Gm

3. In the wee small hours of sixpence, and the hat stand in the hall,

                 Em F#m       G         - D                Gm                       D

    waiting only for the morning,      shadows flitting 'cross the wall.

                   D                   Gm                    D               Gm

    And perhaps that old retainer, without giving of his all,

                     Em            F#m     G          - D               Gm                   D

    may have once been just as we are        and now has no face at all.

 

               G          Gm        D                        G          Gm       D

But still grief was not the reason, he was made of sterner stuff,

                 G                               Em                   A              A7       A    - A7

and his sword, through old and rusty still was blunt and sharp enough.

 

+  D - Bm - D

 

    (Procol Harum)