D A G This is my forty-fifth depressing tuneD A G Em They're looking for money as they clean my artistic wombD A G Em And when I give birth to the child I must take to flightD A G Em 'Cause the black in our pocket won't let us fightA C A proper fightA So hey babyC A Can you shed some light on the problem maybeC A D G 'Cause we're all tired and we'd like to knowEm C Cm G G If we should pack our tents, shut down the showEm C Cm G Yes, we should like to see a burning bush-type signC Cm G But anything would be fineD A G We're all told to dance but we never picked the tuneD A G Em Hanging like puppets they feed us from bent steel spoonsD A G Em But we're sealing our lips for the someday when the needleD A G Em And the vinyl play all the songs of the painA C Songs that explainA All our circles and strainsC A So hey babyC A Can you shed some light on the problem maybeC A D G 'Cause we're all crying and we'd like to knowEm C Cm G G If we should pack our tents, shut down the showEm C Cm G Yes, we should like to see a burning bush-type signC Cm G But anything would be fine SoloC A D G We're all dying and we'd like to knowEm C Cm G G If we should pack our tents, shut down the showEm C Cm G Yes, we should like to see a burning bush-type signC Cm G But anything would be fineC Cm G Oh, anything would be fine
Anything
Sixpence None The Richer
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Continua depois do anúncio
Tom: