Mountains Make Me Crazy
The Weeks
D
(início)
D Oh, these mountains make me crazy F#m My legs can’t seem to stand Bm G And I’ll be leaving in the morning with or without you she said D If I’m breaking what I’m building F#m I’ve ripped out every single stone Bm G And you can break my soul or bones girl but you can’t destroy my home Em No you can't destroy my home D If these street lights they all flicker F#m Just like candles in the street Bm G I will give my soul to strangers and let the bastards sell it cheap D I've seen girls out on the street lord F#m Men drunk on the boulevard Bm G The kings all know my face lord and the jokers pulled my card Em Oh, the jokers pulled my card Bm D They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger Bm F#m I should be pretty strong or so it seems G Em Cause I almost died a thousand times D Bm Oh, death it follows me A I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings D We will plant our dead in boxes F#m And pray to god that something grows Bm Leave the widow on her knees G Boys dressed in black with empty hopes D The children’s screams are crazy F#m Their eyes are blacked out from the smoke Bm G I can spare my bread and water, but I cannot spare my coat Em No I cannot spare my coat D Don’t damn my imagination F#m Cause my dreams are all I have Bm In the day its damp and dirty G But when I sleep it’s not that bad D Dirty hands they cling to boxcars F#m Tender tears stain frozen cheeks Bm G We're all searching for salvation but we won’t find it in these streets Em We won’t find it in these streets Bm D They say that that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger Bm F#m I should be pretty strong or so it seems G Em Cause I almost died a thousand times D Bm Oh, death it follows me A I guess that’s what separates us gods from kings D Everybody lives for something F#m Well I guess I must live to think D You can have my thoughts at half the cost Em 'Cause I think they’re killing me D Well the tree lines weave through fields F#m Giant serpents of the south D Em I’ve seen the sun set on the ocean I’ve seen the daylight drown itself D Poets drink their whiskey F#m They point out problems in our lives Bm Well you will will never read his notebooks G He wont be famous till he dies D Well without our hearts were nothing F#m And without our spines were weak Bm G Well you can pump my blood or hold me up but that still won't make me free Em No that still won’t make me free
Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.
Clube das Cordas
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