Barclay James Harvest

On a ^D cold misty night
At the ^E corner of Haight
She ^Em stood with a Colt Forty- ^D Five
The ^D gun in her hand
A ^E waiting her man
A ^Em victim to take by sur ^D prise
She's the ^D Golden ^A Gate Park ^G killer
She's the ^D scourge of ^A 'Frisco ^G bay
Where she ^D got herself beat ^G up and left for ^A dead
By a ^D man she ^A felt true ^G love for
But ^D who left ^A her out of ^G hand
Now ^D she's out to take re ^G venge on every ^A man
As she ^D stands there with a ^G pistol in her ^D hand
The ^D victim arrives
She ^E looks in his eyes
He ^Em goes for the gun in her ^D hand
Karl ^D Malden was great
But ^E just a bit late
And ^Em got it right between the ^D eyes
She's the ^D Golden ^A Gate Park ^G killer
She's the ^D scourge of ^A 'Frisco ^G bay
Where she ^D got herself beat ^G up and left for ^A dead
By a ^D man she ^A felt true ^G love for
But ^D who left ^A her out of ^G hand
Now ^D she's out to take re ^G venge on every ^A man
As she ^D stands there with a ^G pistol in her ^D hand