Am C He rode through the streets of the city G D Down from his hill on high Am C Oʼer the winds and the steps and the cobble G D He rode to a womanʼs sigh Am C For she was his secret treasure G D She was his shame and his bliss Am C And a chain and a keep are nothing G D Compared to a womanʼs kiss Am C For hands of gold are always cold G D But a womanʼs hands are warm Am C For hands of gold are always cold G D But a womanʼs hands are warm
