An Acquaintance Strikes a Chord The Good Life
he broke his old guit[Dm]ar.
he cou[Am]ldn't make it sing.
the st[Gm]rings had grown so worn
they made his fingers b[Gm]leed.
soon aft[Dm]er the event he made an[Am] acquaintance
whose finger[Gm]s bled as well,
forming scabs[Gm] that never heal.
would you play a[Am] song for me?
some wiltin[G]g melody
that dr[F]ifts over the sunflowers
to some far [E]away country.
won't you play [Am]a song for me?
[G]with words like push pins?
they sti[F]ck into my heart...
and blee[E]d out resonance
[Dm] [Am] [Gm] [Am]
these son[Am]gs are all asleep.
they lay dormant[G] inside of me.
this vac[F]ant recitation..i can't re[E]suscitate them.
won't you play [Am]a song for me?
let the wor[G]ds escape your mouth!
scr[F]eam out what you've lost!
in so[E]ng it will be found.
he br[Dm]oke his old guitar.
he smas[Am]hed it on his bedpost,
where he used [Gm]to dream up lovers
kissing his forehea[Am]d,
"go[C]od morni[G]ng."
[F]
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