Death To The Lads

The Smith Street Band

Tom original: G Capotraste: Sem capotraste Acordes: 8
G

(início)

G

Verse 1

G                          Em
Staying in a hotel full of pilots
        C
I can't believe that they are smoking
       G                   Em
If you mastered the art of flight
              C
Why would you spend half your time choking?
G                             Em              C
Sleeping in a bedroom full of assholes surely means I am one too
G                      Em
And I wake up and I go walking
      C
And I think the wrong thing about you

Pre-chorus

D              Am           Bm   C
And it was the best idea we ever had
D             Am      Bm
Picked up our spirits and we sang

Chorus

C            G
Death to the lads
C            G G/F#
Death to the lads
C            G
Death to the lads
A             D
As loud as we possibly can

Interlude

G Em C (x2)

Verse 2

G                          Em           C
Along the most depressing highways ever dropped into the earth
          G                      Em
Among the confederate flag lower back tattoo
        C
That is this part of the world we're raising
G                Em              C
Bats and kids in carparks in the light of drive-in ATMs
G            Em
I learned to read the side effects
            C
I am my own adverse reaction

Pre-chorus

D              Am           Bm   C
And it was the best idea we ever had
D             Am         Bm
Picked up our voices and we sang

Chorus

C            G
Death to the lads
C            G G/F#
Death to the lads
C            G
Death to the lads
A             D
As loud as we possibly can
C            G
Death to the lads
C            G G/F#
Death to the lads
C            G
Death to the lads
A             D
Get out of my fucking face, mate

Instrumental

C G
C G G/F#
C G
A D

Bridge

C          G                          C
Things get better, but they never get good
C          G                          D
Things get better, but they never get good
D                  C
No, they never get good
C          G
I don't do anything I said I would
C             G                          D
So things get better, but they never get good
And we sang

Outro

C            G
Death to the lads
C            G G/F#
Death to the lads
C            G
Death to the lads
A             D
Get out of my fucking face, mate
Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.
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