|
C
|
|
G
|
|
When the |
ban |
dits have |
sto |
len |
|
F
|
|
C
|
|
your |
je |
welry and |
gon |
e |
|
F
|
|
F
|
|
and |
yo |
ur crippled young |
gy |
psy, |
|
F
|
|
C
|
|
he ’s |
gro |
wn tall and |
str |
ong |
|
F
|
|
G
|
and your |
dead |
mis concept |
ions |
|
F
|
|
C
|
have |
pro |
ven you |
wrong. |
|
C
|
|
F
|
|
Well then, |
princess, |
where |
you |
plannin’ |
|
C
|
G
|
When your |
magazine |
memory |
|
F
|
|
F
|
and you |
realize |
your |
lovers |
|
F
|
|
C
|
were |
just |
painted |
clowns |
|
F
|
|
G
|
and |
outside |
your |
window |
|
F
|
C
|
you start |
hearing |
sounds |
|
C
|
|
F
|
where they’re |
building |
a |
cross |
|
F
|
|
G
|
|
C
|
|
F
|
|
G
|
|
G
|
|
F
|
C
|
When |
all |
your bright |
scarlet |
turns |
slowly |
to |
blue. |
Will you |
stop |
and de |
ci |
de that it’s |
over? |
|
|
C
|
|
G
|
When your |
teardrops |
go |
sour |
|
F
|
|
F
|
The |
splash |
cross the |
virgin |
|
F
|
|
C
|
that |
lives |
down your |
hall |
|
F
|
|
G
|
and |
spends |
all of her |
nights |
|
F
|
|
C
|
with an |
ear |
to your |
wall. |
|
C
|
|
F
|
Well |
then, |
what will you |
have |
C
|
|
G
|
When |
the firedancers |
finish |
|
F
|
|
F
|
with |
nothing |
but |
embers |
|
F
|
|
C
|
and |
sacks |
full of |
stone |
|
F
|
|
G
|
that |
hang |
round your |
neck, |
|
F
|
|
C
|
slicing |
through |
to the |
bone. |
|
C
|
|
F
|
Will |
there |
still be a |
place |
C
|
|
G
|
When |
your shattered |
illusions |
|
F
|
C
|
come a- |
tumblin’ |
home |
|
F
|
|
F
|
and |
all |
of the |
butchers |
|
F
|
|
C
|
you’ve |
nourished |
have |
grown |
|
F
|
|
G
|
and |
they |
are suddenly |
able |
|
C
|
|
F
|
and they |
run |
like |
slaves |
C
|
|
G
|
When |
your questions are |
answered |
|
F
|
|
C
|
and your |
pleading |
is |
done |
|
F
|
|
F
|
and your |
mind |
starts to a- |
screaming |
|
F
|
|
C
|
that you |
ain’t |
the |
one |
|
F
|
|
G
|
|
that |
once |
dwelled |
within |
you, |
|
F
|
|
C
|
will you |
turn, |
will you |
run? |
|
C
|
|
F
|
Then |
princess, |
will you come |
home |