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