| D      | D      | D      | D      |
| D      |


[Verse 1]
           A                   Bm7       G
I am not a crutch, although my knees are rife with woodworm
G                       A                   Bm7     G
 And the mealworms I misheard for lunch are rotting in my guts
G                    A                Bm7       G
 With a childhood of fingernails that ripped my throat to shreds
G                        A                 Bm7       G                      G
 A walk that chimes like church bells from all these loose joints in my legs
Em7
These three lions that were sitting on my chest
            D/F#
Are clawing hard into my skin as I am gasping for my breath
            G
And as they each play noughts and crosses on the scratches they have left
          D/F#
I have to screw up both my eyes as it goes into sudden death
     Em7
They whisper, "Really all these noughts are circles holed, bereft
              D/F#
And all these crosses, crucifixes spreading guilt and sense of dread"
          G
And as we stumbled homeward up the hill to where you used to live
                    D/F#
The cold makes ice upon our cheeks from all the tears that we have shed


[Pre-Chorus]
Em7
These things rattle 'round my head
      Em7
If he hasn't blown the whistle then it isn't quite the end


[Chorus]
G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce
                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess
G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce
                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess
            Em7                    D/F#
And I don't really know now what I thought I knew then
        G                             D/F#
You can lead a horse to water, but it won't drown itself


[Instrumental]
| D  C   | Bm     |
| D  C   | Bm     |


[Verse 2]
                A            Bm7         G
This one family photograph always floats to the top
                A                      Bm7    G
Like a beaming, bloated corpse, though having been made up
                A              Bm7  G
My memories are sepia, but the photograph is not
                A                     Bm7    G
An historian is fucking with them, as deadly as garrotte
               Em7
Where they're standing in the kitchen with his arms around her waist
         D/F#
With no idea of what's to come and with a smile across your face
            G
And all the fittings are the same but every other thing has changed
            D/F#
Must forget everything you know as though your mouth and tongue estranged
 Em7
Small comforts found in ABBA Gold and electronic chess
     D/F#
When West Clewes was my Waterloo, my most dramatic test
              G
Now I've been walking down the shortcuts and the alleys in the dark
            D/F#
Because I'm not scared of the shadows, they're no blacker than my heart


[Pre-Chorus]
Em7
These things rattle 'round my head
      Em7
If he hasn't blown the whistle then it isn't quite the end


[Chorus]
G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce
                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess
G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce
                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess
    G                  D
But how could I ever refuse?
  G                     D
I feel like I lose when I lose
            Em7                  D/F#
And I don't even know now what I thought I knew then
        G                             D/F#
You can lead a horse to water, but it won't drown itself


[Outro]
| D  C   | Bm     |
| D  C   | Bm     |
| D  C   | Bm     |
| D  C   | Bm     | D      | D      |