C                D/C
We were gathered on a Thursday
   Fm                 C
To see the two out of five
C                D/C
Pitch your newly pressed pop record
Fm               C
And the room was well inside
C                  D/C
Until the faithful got the bends
Fm            C
And you never made amends
        C                     D/C
For the fielding error on the call
             Fm                 C
To play your best known song of all


[Chorus]
            D
I wanted to hate you
Fm                C
That was my first choice
            D
I wanted to hate you
Fm                 C
Until I heard your voice

C D/C Fm C

[Verse 2]
C             D/C
My, how rude, so impolite
Fm               C
All this on your night of nights
C             D/C
Little man of smallish frame
Fm                   C
Crushed beneath your pop band name
C                  D/C
Your table manners left behind
Fm                   C
In an Oxford flat at suppertime
C                    D/C
You came of range on center stage
Fm                       C
Now sleep's not all your losing


[Chorus]
            D
I wanted to hate you
Fm                C
That was my first choice
            D
I wanted to hate you
Fm                 C
Until I heard your voice
                  D
When I heard your voice
  Fm                C
I could ignore your face
                  D
When I heard your voice
Fm
Tom with a "TH"


[Interlude]
G A Cm G
G A Cm G
G A Cm G
G A Cm G

Fm/B C
Fm/B Am

D Bm C
D Bm C
D Bm C
D Bm C Am Bb

Bb

C D Fm C
C D Fm C


[Outro]
C           D/C
Let the ass bray
Fm               C
Make the punters pay

C           D/C
Let the ass bray
Fm               C
Make the punters pay

C           D/C
Let the ass bray
Fm               C
Make the punters pay

C           D/C
Let the ass bray
Fm               C
Make the punters pay...

C D/C Fm C
C D/C Fm C
C D/C Fm C
C D/C Fm C