Ian Anderson: Postcard Day
Album: The Secret Language of Birds
Chords: Håkan Mattsson

This was a bit tricky here and there. I'm not sure I have found the right
capo position, and I'm certain that some of the chords are not exactly
right, especially the G* and E**, but it sounds rather OK. Anyone who
has any better suggestions, feel free to email.

With a capo on the third fret, the main theme consists mostly of E and B,
and the E is played as a D, two frets up. I call it E*.

To be able to play the short B's, I just put my index finger over the three
strings, muting the e string, as XX444X. In the same way I play the short A
on for example the second line of the lyrics.

The B played at "Two pink doves..." is not played as a barre (X24442), but I
could not find the right way to play it.

Capo on 3:rd fret.

E*:   XXX454
G*:   3X0000
E**:  X00200
E***: 000000 (yes, all strings loose)

Chord in the beginning

Instrumental beginning:
E* B E* B E* B A E   2 times

 E*     B          E*             B            E*
My eyes are white circles above cheekbones on fire:
               B    A  E
pale hand gripping my pen.
 E*          B      E*          B          E*
Rounding up to the zero, adding infinite fractions,
           B    A   E
letting nine become ten.
  B                    A   B
Two pink doves strut the shingles
          C#m                        F#
picking crumbs from the breakfast I saved
         F#m                       A
for you dear. And I wish you were here
on this postcard day.

E* B E* B E* B A E E***

 E*   B       E*       B         E*
Focus on the fine indeterminate line
               B      A  E
where the sky meets the sea.
 E*           B    E*            B    E*
Desperate midweek words, banal and absurd
             B   A  E
freely flow out of me.
      B               A      B
Well, I may be a hostage to summer
           C#m             F#
but I'm a hostage, not a slave.
          F#m                       A
And I'm clear that I wish you were here
on this postcard day.

E** G*

E* B E* B E* B A E E***
E* B E* B E* B A E

  G                                             F#
Precious cargo of flotsam: mixed memories on an ocean tide
swim madly with spice from the orient
on a mystery watery carpet ride.
 F                      G                    A
But with the sun going down, the wind goes around;
blows them back out of mind.


E* B E* B E* B A E
E* B E* B E* B A E

 E*           B    E*                   B        E*
My eyes are white circles staring down past the point
       B   A    E   E***
of my restless pen.
 E*                  B  E*                 B    E*
While the ghosts of my youth all sworn to the truth
         B   A E
call my name again.
      B                   A  B
Two brown legs don't make a summer.
              C#m                     F#
But two brown arms couldn't keep me away.
          F#m                   A
Well, my dear, I wish you were here
on this postcard day.

E* B G* G*

E* B E* B E* B A E E***
E* B E* B E* B A E        These two lines repeatedly...