Tom: G minor•
Verse 1
No hope, no regret
Dm
Still looking for a present to live for
Cm
Sticking to the plastic
Just carry it along, universe wants me dead
Dm
I drift through the flatlands,
corpse brown
Cm
F
On overgrowth, drip and dry
Cm
Panic of the ages in the air
It feels like disease
Bb
F
Every time I walk in the room
Cm
I know the end's coming soon
F
Every time my face hits the air
Cm
I know we're going nowhere
By the gallow tree
Dm
Performing the lovesick poet
Or stuck in the pan
Dm
Swollen, twisted, broken
Cm
F
Twist again
Something's rotten,
Eb
dy ing just to be forgotten
F
Panic of the ages in the air
Cm
Bb
Feels like disease
F
Every time I walk in the room
Cm
I know the end's coming soon
Feels like disease
Bb
F
Every time our face hits the air
Cm
I know we're going nowhere
F
Cm
Of all the ways to feel alone
Solo or group or pair,
F
Cm
disengaged or catatone
Saturated, muted breath
Bdim
and strangled air surrounding
Cm
Eb
Smothering, unbound,
G
Bdim
you are the loneliest
G
Ab
of all the worlds you'll ever see
Is this the way it's sup
Eb
Gm
posed to be?
Ride along, ride along,
I'd soon as be dead
Dm
I'd drift through the flatlines,
corpse brown
Cm
Over drugs, drippin' trash
Gm
No longer weighed down,
more stuck in the
Dm
Just swollen, twisted,
G
Cm
broken,
Something's rotten,
Eb
dy ing just to be forgotten
F
Cm
Panic of the ages in the air,
F
Every time I walk in the room,
Cm
I know the end's coming soon
Bb
It feels like disease,
F
every time I face it's the end
Cm
Gm
I know we're going nowhere
Thank for
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesGm Dm Cm F Eb...
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