I Forgot About Songs

G                          G
To hear a song like that, To have it spoon your sad little heart
G                                                   G
It didn't give me a better outlook on life but it told me: "I've been there too, and I turned it
 to art"

               C       D            Em
And that made all the difference to me
          C       D             G
That made all the difference to me

G                             G
And I forgot about songs, I forgot about what they are to me
G                            G
I forgot how they hold me, How they sooth me and carry me

C                                          G
 I forgot about violins, I forgot how they see me
C                                          Em
 Try me and taunt me, And how they finally breathe me

C                                                        G
 I forgot about chord changes Where the base tone stays intact
C                                                    Em
 I forgot about drums and Voices with a tendency to crack
           C       D            Em
They make all the difference to me
           C       D            G
They make all the difference to me

                C                       Em
There was this September When all broke through
                  D                       Em            D              C
Turned out all my truths had worn thin, I dangled by a thread from within
                  Em        D
But I heard a violin


                    C                           Em
"I'll hold you my child", The song said, and it did
              D                            Em            D           C
It stroke my forehead with pale hands and Slowly carried me to the bridge
                    Em           D
And as the chorus arrived I let go - oh

G
And you're so young, You're so young and you come up to me
         G
And you tell me it helped you through something bad, You say and you hang your head
                                   C
But this song it helped you through

C                                        G
 I get home and I kick my books, Fuck you knowledge
C                                            Em
 I was never on your team, never one of your fighters
                             D
I was born a romantic for a reason
                              G
Not to be loved, To be a songwriter