Artist: HITCHCOCK ROBYN | Title: she doesnt exist
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Tablature is mostly (but not exclusively) seen for reticulate stringed instruments, in which environment it is commonly titled journalism for brief (except for lute tablature).
It is ofttimes utilised for the guitar, bass, lute, archlute, theorbo, anglique, mandora, gallichon, and vihuela, but in generalisation it crapper be utilised for some reticulate instrument, including ukulele, mandolin, banjo, and viola da gamba, as substantially as some liberated wood aerophones much as the harmonica.
It is ofttimes utilised for the guitar, bass, lute, archlute, theorbo, anglique, mandora, gallichon, and vihuela, but in generalisation it crapper be utilised for some reticulate instrument, including ukulele, mandolin, banjo, and viola da gamba, as substantially as some liberated wood aerophones much as the harmonica.
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE----------------------------------# # This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # # song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #-------------------------------------------------------------------------------# Date: Wed, 28 Jun 1995 15:03:10 -0400 (EDT) From: Terry Marks <a013645t@bcfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us> Robyn Hitchcock's She Doesn't Exist From: Arif Jamal Ansari <ajansari@acs.ucalgary.ca> To: fegmaniax <fegmaniax@ns2.Rutgers.EDU> Subject: CRD: She Doesn't Exist She Doesn't Exist (R. Hitchcock) -------------------------------- G D A D I used to ring you and put down the phone, G D A / once wore a hole in your dress. G D A D Even tried Voodoo outside your home, G D A / but these days I couldn't care less. G D A / She doesn't exist any more, G D A She doesn't exist any more. I let her go like the fool that I was, thought I'd get over her soon. I smell her perfume when my eyes are closed, and I see her face in the moon. She doesn't exist any more, She doesn't exist any more. I tell myself it would be different now, I wouldn't treat her that way. I wouldn't be me if she wasn't her, and it's far too late, anyway. 'Cos she doesn't exist any more, She doesn't exist any more. Only inside you the ghost of the love, That is wordless and painful and old. There's no one else in the whole outside world, that matches to her in your soul. But she doesn't exist any more, She doesn't exist any more. Terry Marks a013645t@bcfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us
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