And you’re almost
C
back now, you can see by the
Em
signs;
from the bank you tell the
Am
temperature and then the time, and the billboard reads some
F
headlines.
The head wants to
Dm
turn, to avert both its
G
eyes,
but the mind wants to
Dm
learn of some truth that might be in
F
side reported
G
crimes.
So they found a lieu
C
tenant who killed a village of
Em
kids.
After finishing
Am
off the wives, he wiped off his knife and that’s what he
F
did.
And they’re not claiming
Dm
that there’s any excusing
G
it;
that was thirty years
Dm
back, and they just get paid for the facts the
F
way they got them
G
in.
Now he’s rising and not
C
denying. His hands are shaking, but
Em
he’s not crying.
And he’s saying “How
Am
did I climb out of a life so boring in
F
to that moment?
Please
G
stop ignoring the
C
heart inside, oh you readers at
Em
home!
While you gasp at my bloody
Am
crimes, please take the time to make your heart my
F
home:
where I’m forgiven by
Dm
time, where I’m cushioned by
G
hope,
where I’m numbed by long
Dm
drives, where I’m talked off or
F
dop
G
ed.
Does the heart wants to a
C
tone? Oh,
Em
I believe that it’s so,
because if I could climb
Am
back through time, I’d restore their lives and then give back my
F
own:
tens of times now its
Dm
size on a far distant
G
road
in a far distant
Dm
time where every night I’m still crying, en
F
tirely a
G
lone.”