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tabs:wild_sage [2006/09/02 17:49] andrewl created |
tabs:wild_sage [2015/09/26 11:27] flyonthewall |
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< | < | ||
+ | G | ||
- | i leave the house as soon as it gets light outside | + | G A7 |
+ | I leave the house as soon as it gets light outside | ||
+ | C G | ||
+ | Like a prisoner breaking out of jail | ||
+ | G A7 | ||
+ | And I steal down to business 15-501 | ||
+ | C G | ||
+ | Like I had a bounty hunter on my tail | ||
+ | D | ||
+ | And somebody stops to pick me up | ||
+ | C | ||
+ | But he drops me off just down the block | ||
- | like a prisoner breaking out of jail | + | G Em |
+ | And along the highway | ||
+ | | ||
+ | Where the empty spirits breed | ||
+ | | ||
+ | Wild sage growing in the weeds | ||
- | and i steal down to business 15-501 | + | Walk down the soft shoulder and I count my steps |
+ | Headed vaguely eastward, sun in my eyes | ||
+ | And I lose my footing and I skin my hands breaking my fall | ||
+ | And I laugh to myself and look up at the skies | ||
+ | And then I think I hear angels in my ears | ||
+ | Like marbles being thrown against a mirror | ||
- | like i had a bounty hunter on my tail | + | And along the highway |
+ | Where unlucky stray dogs bleed | ||
+ | Wild sage growing in the weeds | ||
+ | F C | ||
+ | And somedays I don't miss my family | ||
+ | G F | ||
+ | And somedays I do | ||
+ | | ||
+ | Somedays I think I'd feel better if I tried harder | ||
+ | C D7 | ||
+ | Most days I know it's not true | ||
+ | I lay down right where I felt cold grass in my face | ||
+ | And I hear the traffic like the rhythm of the tides | ||
+ | And I stare at the scrape on the heel of my hand | ||
+ | Till it doesn' | ||
+ | And when somebody asks if I'm okay | ||
+ | I don't know what to say | ||
- | and somebody stops to pick me up | + | And along the highway |
+ | From cast off innumerable seeds | ||
+ | Wild sage growing in the weeds | ||
- | but he drops me off just down the block | + | F |
- | + | F | |
- | and along the highway | + | |
- | + | ||
- | where the empty spirits breed | + | |
- | + | ||
- | wild sage growing in the weeds | + | |
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | walk down the soft shoulder and i count my steps | + | |
- | + | ||
- | headed vaguely eastward, sun in my eyes | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and i lose my footing and i skin my hands breaking my fall | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and i laugh to myself and look up at the skies | + | |
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | and then i think i hear angels in my ears | + | |
- | + | ||
- | like marbles being thrown against a mirror | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and along the highway | + | |
- | + | ||
- | where unlucky stray dogs bleed | + | |
- | + | ||
- | wild sage growing in the weeds | + | |
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | and somedays i don't miss my family | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and somedays i do | + | |
- | + | ||
- | somedays i think i'd feel better if i tried harder | + | |
- | + | ||
- | most days i know it's not true | + | |
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | i lay down right where i felt cold grass in my face | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and i hear the traffic like the rhythm of the tides | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and i stare at the scrape on the heel of my hand | + | |
- | + | ||
- | til it doesn' | + | |
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | + | ||
- | and when somebody asks if i'm ok | + | |
- | + | ||
- | i don't know what to say | + | |
- | + | ||
- | and along the highway | + | |
- | + | ||
- | from cast innumerable seeds | + | |
- | + | ||
- | wild sage growing in the weeds | + | |
</ | </ | ||
- | |||