{title: Scarborough Fair}
{artist: Simon and Garfunkel}
{key: Em}

{define G/H base-fret 0 frets x 2 0 0 0 x}

{start_of_verse: Sloka 1}
[Am]Are you going to [G]Scarborough [Am]Fair
[C]Parsley, [Am]sage, rose[C]ma[D]ry and [Am]thyme
Re[Am]member [C]me to [C]one [G/H]who [Am]lives [G]there
[Am]She once [G]was a true love of [Am]mine
{end_of_verse}

{start_of_verse: Sloka 2}
[Am]Tell her to make me a [G]cambric [Am]shirt
                (On the side of a hill in the deep forest green)
[C]Parsley, [Am]sage, rose[C]ma[D]ry and [Am]thyme
                         (Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown)
With[Am]out no [C]seams nor [C]nee-[G/H]ee-[Am]dle [G]work
                    (Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain)
[Am]Then she'll [G]be a true love of [Am]mine
                             (Sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
{end_of_verse}

{start_of_verse: Sloka 3}
[Am]Tell her to find me an [G]acre of [Am]land
                (On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves)
[C]Parsley, [Am]sage, rose[C]ma[D]ry and [Am]thyme
                         (Washes the grave - with silvery tears)
Bet[Am]ween the salt [C]water [C]and [G/H]the [Am]sea [G]strands
                      (A soldier cleans - and polishes a gun)
[Am]Then she'll [G]be a true love of [Am]mine
{end_of_verse}

{start_of_verse: Sloka 4}
[Am]Tell her to reap it with a [G]sickle of [Am]leather
                          (War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions)
[C]Parsley, [Am]sage, rose[C]ma[D]ry and [Am]thyme
                         (Generals order their soldiers to kill)
And [Am]gather it [C]all in a [C]bun[G/H]ch [Am]of [G]heather
               (And to fight for a cause - they've long-ago forgotten)
[Am]Then she'll [G]be a true love of [Am]mine
{end_of_verse}

{start_of_verse: Sloka 5}
[Am]Are you going to [G]Scarborough [Am]Fair
[C]Parsley, [Am]sage, rose[C]ma[D]ry and [Am]thyme
Re[Am]member [C]me to [C]one [G/H]who [Am]lives [G]there
[Am]She once [G]was a true love of [Am]mine
{end_of_verse}