Тональность: D minor
Intro 1
Ebm
Db
Gb
Abm
B
Ebm
Db
Abm
Gb
Ebm
Db
Gb
Abm
Bb
B
Bb
Abm
Bb
Ebm
Db
Abm
B
Ebm
Db
Abm
Gb
Ebm
Verse 1
Db
I could never tell you
Abm
B
Ebm
The impossible story
Db
Abm
Words will never get close to
Db
Ebm
The colour of your mourning
Db
You know that I am so sincere
Abm
Bbm
Ebm
But what is that help ing?
B
Bb
Abm
I won't be the author of a story
Bb
That is not mine to tell
Ebm
Db
Make the fuckers talk
Abm
B
Ebm
Db
Abm
Gb
Standing in the flame of fire
Ebm
Db
Say it like it is
Abm
Bb
Shout it like you're in the fire
B
Bb
Bbm
Abm
Verse 2
Bb
Ebm
Gb
As angry and as urgent as a teen
Abm
I try to set the scene,
B
natural human instinct is to intervene
Ebm
The same that cut the ones
Gb
who dare to dream
Abm
Cos shit is so naive,
Gb
are cutting down the very thing that the people need
Ebm
Cos everything is already
Abm
And already been deemed to be
Ebm
agreed and disagreed
And it seems we're
first
Gb
past the post steez
Abm
In a post modern post truth
Gb
world truth's ghostly
Ebm
For what it's worth
Db
Gb
you can quote me and
Abm
I'm a lay it like an IED and
B
Ebm
trigger it re motely
Gb
No wonder these bars get
banked with boasting
Abm
Gb
Privilege does not necessarily
Ebm
mean you're coasting
Gb
So keep a pin close to burst
the bubble
Abm
Of some earnest motherfucker that
B
Ebm
has gone to the trouble
Of being a grave digger digging
Db
Gb
the dead to life
Abm
There's nothing to suggest
Gb
that salvation will arrive
Ebm
Db
And to remind me of it is so contrived
Gb
Abm
I don't need a broken record
B
to bring me down off my high
Ebm
I just need these green eyes
Gb
to roll back and sigh
Abm
As much as I wish that I
Gb
Ebm
had the answer why
Verse 3
Db
Make the fuckers talk
Abm
B
Standing in the flame
Ebm
Db
Abm
of fire
Gb
Ebm
Db
Say it like it is
Abm
Gb
Shout it like you're in the fire
B
Bb
Bbm
Abm
Bb
Ebm
Db
I could never tell you
Abm
B
Ebm
The impossible story
Db
Abm
Words will never get close to
Db
Ebm
The colour of your morning
Db
You know that I am so sincere
Abm
Bbm
Ebm
But what is that help ing
B
Bb
Abm
I can't be the author of a story
Bb
That is not mine to tell
Ebm
This is not the body that has
Verse 4
Db
grown out of a squalor
Abm
B
This is not the optimism born
from living horror
Ebm
The guilt could make a brother
Db
wanna lose a white collar
Abm
But uh he need
it today he'll
Ebm
give it up tomorra
The dirt under the fingernails
Db
was never the grains
Abm
That the bones had replaced
Bbm
in a rubbish tip grave
B
The sweat they wiped off when
Ebm
they put their knives away
Is the same sweat we get when
Bb
Bbm
we dance the night away
Ebm
And if I could turn the sun around
Db
and il luminate the hell
Gb
Cos you best believe it can be found
B
Db
where humanity dwell
Ebm
An d I could write a book about
Db
a book that wouldn't sell
Abm
Be the author of a story that
Gb
Ebm
was never mine to tell but
Where would that lead us? Preach
Abm
To believers we're needing
Ebm
I am no teacher and
you resent the grievance
Gb
Abm
But if I don't at least try it's like
Ebm
The story must be told some
Abm
But it won't be delivered
B
by the man in the tux
Ebm
Nor will it be heard over the
Abm
Saying fuck it all fuck it all fuck
Gb
Ebm
it all for all 12 months
Verse 5
Db
I could never tell you
Abm
B
The impossible story
Ebm
Db
Words will never get
Gb
Ebm
The colour of your morning
Db
You know that I am so sincere
Abm
Bbm
Ebm
But what is that help ing
B
Bb
Bbm
Abm
I can't be the author of a story
Bb
Ebm
That is not mine to tell
Outro 1
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Abm
B
Ebm
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Abm
Gb
Abm
Ebm
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Bb
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B
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Bbm
Ebm
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B
Ebm
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Abm
Gb
Ebm
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Bb
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Bbm
Abm
Bb
Ebm
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B
Ebm
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Gb
Ebm
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B
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Abm
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Ebm
Gb
Ebm
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B
Ebm
Gb
Abm
Gb
Ebm
Abm
Bb
B
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Abm
Bb
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