An Attempt to Tip the Scales Bright Eyes
Did yo[C]u expect it all t[Em]o stop
at th[F]e wave of you[G]r hand?
Like th[C]e sun is just going t[Em]o drop
if it’[F]s night yo[G]u demand.
Well, i[C]n the dark we are jus[Em]t air
so the[F] house mig[G]ht dissolve.
But onc[C]e we are gone, who is[Em] gonna care
if we were e[F]ver here at[G] all?
[F]Well, summer is going to come
and it’s gonn[G]a cloud our eyes again[Em].
There is not need to focus
when there i[F]s nothing that it wort[G]h seeing.
So we t[C]rade liquor for blood[Em]
in an [F]attempt to[G] tip the scales.
I think[C] you lost what you lo[Em]ved
in tha[F]t mess of [G]details.
They se[C]emed so important at [Em]the time
but no[F]w you can’[G]t even recall
any of [C]the names, faces, or [Em]lines.
It is [F]more the f[G]eeling of it all.
[F]Well, winter is going to end and
I’m going to [G]clean these veins agai[Em]n.
So close to dying that I finall[F]y can
start [G]living.
[C] [Em] [F] [G]
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