Seventy-
D
four. Seventy-five.
He’s getting
Am
used to it now,
how
G
each one falls away in that
F
hoary light.
and they are
D
gone, gone from the age,
gone from the
Am
guards and their hands.
It’s no
G
different today than in
F
years gone by.
And he
C
won’t come
Am
out
D'
alive
D
,
with his
C
hands so
Am
thin and
D'
white…
D
like verse 1
Gone. Gone from the page,
and then he is gone from your eyes,
as that splintering wave takes so many lives.
And now your hands are gripping the edge
of such a waste, where every angel looks dead,
every face a lie.
And you won’t come out tonight,
with your hands so thin and white, alive…
G F
really not sure about this part:
C and G
D D'
G F
normal verse
Seventy-four, seventy-five,
Daddy, come back to me now–
I would beat them away
I would lift you out
I would wash all the cinders from your eyes
And with silver and gold
I would adorn you
I’ll let it all come out tonight,
when they pull me out alive.
Alive
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