Margarita

They’re playing our [G]song[D/F#], Margar[Em]ita.
Dance it this [C]last time with [D]me.
It won’t be [G]long,[D/F#] Margar[Em]ita –
soon I’ll [C]be over[D]seas.
Let me [G]know that you’ll [Gaug]care
when I’ve [C]gone over [Cm]there.
They’re playing our [G]song, Marga[D/F#]rita.
Dance it this [C]last time with [G]me.

same):
Kiss me again, Margarita.
Give me a memory of you.
They say in France, Margarita,
one more push, we’ll be through.
Yes, I’ll write, but where from?
All they’ll say will be “The Somme.”
Kiss me again, Margarita.
Give me a memory of you.

It’s a new [Em]world, Margar[C]ita,
that we’ll [D]build when it’s [G]through.
In our new [Em]world, Marga[C]rita,
we’ll be [A7]wed, me and [D]you.

My old great aunt Margarita
(she’d been blind thirty years)
would tell us of young Margarita,
of her man and her tears.
She would say, “He was tall,
that’s his picture on the wall.”
My old great aunt Margarita,
she’d been blind thirty years,

and she would ask, “Is he smiling?”
I would stare at the frame,
but the sun was there shining
through her window again.
Where the sun always shone
he had faded and gone.
When she would ask, “Is he smiling?”
I would say, “He’s the same”

It’s a new [Em]world, Margar[C]ita,
that we’ll [D]build when it’s [G]through.
In our new [Em]world, Marga[C]rita,
we’ll be [A7]wed, me and [D]you.

To verse 1, repeat last two lines of it.