Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout

      G                    D
She'd wash the dishes and scrub the pans,
A                 D
Cook the yams and spice the hams,
    G                        D
And though her parents would scream and shout,
           A                  D
She simply would not take the garbage out.
    D              A                A               D
And so it piled up to the ceilings: Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
D              A            A              D
Brown bananas, rotten peas, Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
   D                  G
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
   A                      D
It cracked the window and blocked the door
     D               A              A              D
With bacon rinds and chicken bones, Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
G                       D            A                D
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
G                D                A               D
Pizza crusts and withered greens, Soggy beans and tangerines,
G                                      D
Crusts of black burned buttered toast, Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . .
NC(D)                 (A)               A                   D
The garbage rolled on down the hall, It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . .
G               D              A              D
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs, Blobs of gooey bubble gum,
G                            D
Cellophane from old baloney, Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
(A)NC
Peanut butter, caked and dry, Curdled milk and crusts of pie,

Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,

Cold french fried and rancid meat, Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
   D                A                    A          D
At last the garbage reached so high That finally it touched the sky.
    D                         A             NC
And none of her friends would come to play. And all the neighbors moved away,

And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said, "OK, I'll take the garbage out!"
    D                A                    A                D
But then, of course, it was too late. The garbage reached across the state,
     D               A                A                     D
From New York to the Golden Gate. And there, in the garbage she did hate,
     A            D                A        D
Poor Sarah met an awful fate, That I cannot now relate
  A                 D              NC
Because the hour is much too late. But children, remember Sarah Stout
(bass notes only)
    A A    A    A   A B C#  D
And always take the garbage out!
E|------------------------------------| 

This was a difficult one to tab, as the guitar part was fairly quiet.