Tom: C minor•
Intro 1
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Cm
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Cm
Fm
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Now bring it out Like a finger in the back of your mouth
Verse 1
Cm
Gm
Fm
Cherubs and cerebellum,
Cm
Tara at Sarah's wedding
Band pushed upon the finger
of Sam's hairiest hand
Cm
If that sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well then you wicked
Cm
Odd as Egg McMuffins at night
No answers,
Fm
so let us watch these dancers
Structure reformed gracefully being born
Cm
On the pallet of dark greys,
Fm
Kal eidoscope into a Eiffel
Ab
Cm
It ripples then it tidals
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Cm
Fm
Vacillates then it virals
Cm
Babylons then it Bibles and others
And tell me of the spinning mothers
Fm
And today's mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like
the cummerbunds of butlers
Verse 2
Fm
Cm
How was your day,
Bb
Cm
Bb
can I make what you say
Cm
Fm
Cm
Fm
Cm
Bb
What I wanna hear, cause I want you here
Fm
Cm
Bb
Cm
The hell that we raised to the heav
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Gm
Fm
Cm
ens do anything for
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Cm
Bb
La petite mort, la petite mort
Fm
They keep the bottles just to make glass houses
Verse 3
Cm
Then climb
up to the second floors
Fm
and throw rocks out it
Then expect not a volley in reply
Cm
Some place vulnerable like
prolly in the eye
Fm
What of the chicken? what is it missin',
is it dry?
Cm
Bb
Did it die in some inhumane conditions
Fm
so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its demise pulled
Cm
all of the flavor from the fat
Fm
And made it flat and rather
lifeless
Well there's a place
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Bb
that has a stunning (?)
And more mercifully murdered
Fm
Pisces
Cm
But barbaric are still the prices
Fm
Cm
Bb
It's rather niceless, apricot in
Fm
dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto rices
Bb
to his own devices, well
Cm
Is it returning like a lemon tree
Bb
To bear bitter fruit of what
Fm
Or was it slippin' like permission
am I trippin' like Phil
Cm
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe
Still left out the life,
Cm
also left out the will, grief
Ab
Will cheese never touch your teeth
Fm
Maybe like kosher beef
Cm
Gm
Is it real, is it real, is it real
Verse 4
Cm
Fm
How at the date can I
Cm
Bb
make you my break
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Fm
Cm
Cause I want you dear,
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Cm
Bb
ooh, I want you dear
Cm
Fm
Cm
Fm
The hell that we raised to the
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Gm
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heavens make (?) for
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Cm
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Our petite mort,
Verse 5
Fm
Cm
So glad you're back,
Bb
but not glad at that you're glad
Cm
Where is the glamor in collapse?
Ab
Bb
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one
Fm
back to a pattern of stab wounds
Cm
Fm
Swoon ridden goons consumed
Gm
Bb
The attended years slowly fills
Fm
Cm
with baboons
That other monkey business
Gm
Where killers go free cause a
Cm
junkie's a funky witness
Fm
Cm
Ab
Runny mascaras from the cunning
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Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
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Cm
Fm
Separated by a sea
Reminiscing of an every day playing
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Where recognition went un noticed
And then solidified till it
was stoic
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We should've been poets
Cm
Somewhere between amateurs and
grandmasters of iambic pentameter
Verse 6
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Bb
do they make you behave
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Cm
Keep you over here,
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by your overseer
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Cm
Fallen from grace down from heaven
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Gm
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Cm
to memories (?)
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La petite mort, la petite mort
Outro 1
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