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tabs:wild_sage [2006/09/02 17:49] andrewl created |
tabs:wild_sage [2021/08/24 21:42] (current) |
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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 | + | |
| </ | </ | ||
| - | |||