Stitches Young Guns
Intro: G#m E (x2)
Verse 1:
Every [G#m]hour is a season
Every [E]minute lasts a day
So I s[G#m]it here picking stitches
I find [E]comfort in decay
How I l[F#]ong to fill my l[E]ungs
Chorus (no words):
G#m E B F# (x2)
Verse 2:
So tell me how does it f[G#m]eel to,
Br[E]eathe air cold and clean
'Cause I[G#m]'ve been living on my knees since I w[E]as seventeen
Thought I was s[F#]afe beneath the smo[E]ke,
But even under c[F#]over I still cho[E]ke
Chorus:
Well my w[G#m]ings were clipped and e[E]ven if they w[B]eren't
(Even if they w[F#]eren't)
I've not the [G#m]guts to fly and le[E]ave behind the E[B]arth
(Leave behind the [F#]Earth)
There's no p[G#m]oetry in my s[E]oul,
Just a l[B]ist of lies I've t[F#]old,
And I d[G#m]on't know how much l[E]onger I can h[B]old [F#]on.
Solo bridge: G#m E G#m F# E G#m E F# (not sure about that, I just leaned on the bass tab from UG)
[G#m]Poetry, in my soul. L[E]ist of lies, that I've told... (x2)
Chorus (two times, second time quietly, almost whispering):
Well my w[G#m]ings were clipped and e[E]ven if they w[B]eren't
(Even if they w[F#]eren't)
I've not the [G#m]guts to fly and le[E]ave behind the E[B]arth
(Leave behind the [F#]Earth)
There's no p[G#m]oetry in my s[E]oul,
Just a l[B]ist of lies I've t[F#]old,
And I d[G#m]on't know how much l[E]onger I can h[B]old [F#]on.
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