The Tortured Poets Department

C
  You left your typewriter
At my apartment
F
  Straight from
The tortured poets department
C                              F
  I think some things I never say
Like: Who uses typewriters anyway?
    Am                          G
But    you're in self-sabotage mode
                             C
Throwing spikes down on the road
                       F
But I've seen this episode
And still love the show
  Am        G
Who else decodes you?

      C                   F
And who's gonna hold you like me?
      C                       F
And who's gonna know you, if not me?
                            Am
I laughed in your face and said
                        G
You're not Dylan Thomas
                    C
I'm not Patti Smith
                          F
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We'rе modern idiots
      Am         G        C
And who's gonna hold you like me?

   F
Nobody
            C
No-fucking-body
   F
Nobody

C
  You smokеd then ate
Seven bars of chocolate
F
  We declared Charlie Puth
Should be a bigger artist
C
  I scratch your head, you fall asleep
F
  Like a tattooed golden retriever
Am                       G
   But you awaken with dread
                         C
Pounding nails in your head
                   F
But I've read this one
Where you come undone
    Am           G
I chose this cyclone with you

      C                   F
And who's gonna hold you like me?
(Who's gonna hold you?)
(Who's gonna hold you?)
      C                    F
And who's gonna know you, like me?
(Who's gonna hold you?)
                            Am
I laughed in your face and said
                        G
You're not Dylan Thomas
                    C
I'm not Patti Smith
                          F
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We'rе modern idiots
      Am         G        C
And who's gonna hold you like me?
(Who's gonna hold you?)
(Who's gonna hold you?)

            F
No-fucking-body
(who's gonna hold you?)
(Who's gonna hold you?)
   C
Nobody (who's gonna hold you)
(Gonna know you, gonna hold you?)
   F
Nobody (ooh-ooh)

C
  Sometimes, I wonder if you're
Gonna screw this up with me
F
  But you told Lucy you'd
Kill yourself if I ever leave
C
  And I had said that to Jack
About you, so I felt seen
F
  Everyone we know understands
Why it's meant to be (oh)
C                F
  'Cause we're crazy
So tell me
C                     F
  Who else is gonna know me?
    Am
At dinner
                         G
You take my ring off my middle finger
                  C
And put it on the one
            F
People put wedding rings on
                   Am
And that's the closest
              G
I've come to my heart exploding

  C                      F
Who's gonna hold you? (Who?) me
  C                      F
Who's gonna know you? (Who?) me
Am
   And you're not Dylan Thomas
G
  I'm not Patti Smith
C                           F
  This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We'rе modern idiots
      Am         G
And who's gonna hold you

C
  Who's gonna hold you?
(Who's gonna hold you?)
Who's gonna hold you?
(Who's gonna hold you?)
F
  Who's gonna hold you?
Who's gonna hold you?
C
   Who's gonna hold you,
                                F
Gonna know you, gonna hold you?

Am                 G
    You left your typewriter
At my apartment
C
  Straight from
     F
The tortured poets department
  Am        G              C
Who else decodes you? (Ooh-ooh)
    F
(Ooh-ooh)
     C     F
(Ooh-ooh)

Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.