My Brother Works For The Cia

  C

              F             C            F              C
Im still looking out your window,  your shady tones of home.
        F              C               G
Where dusty memories echo down like rain.
        F                   C       F              C
And the years grow ever longer, the days go flying by,
    F                 C           G              C
but I cant wait til you and I are finally home again.

            F            C                G            C
Well there aint no easy answers when the circus is in town,
 F               C               G
troubled juries hang each other dead.
         F                C          F             C
And the TVs filled with poets, who only write in rhyme,
         F                    C        G             C
and my brother works for the CIA when hes not doing time.

            F            C           F             C
When comfort comforts no one, surrounded by your name
        F             C           G
there is no one that I can talk to now.
        F                 C      F           C
And this town is a painting, and I am but a dream,
    F                 C            G                   C
so come live me outside the lonely fields of midnight may

            F            C                G            C
Well there aint no easy answers when the circus is in town,
 F               C               G
troubled juries hang each other dead.
         F                C          F             C
And the TVs filled with poets, who only write in rhyme,
         F                    C        G             C
and my brother works for the CIA when hes not doing time.

          F              C                G            C
And when the nighttime tricks me to believin I’m the same,
F                C                G
as every barstool in this god damn place.
         F                C          F           C
You come put your arms around me, slowly say my name.
         F                    C        G               C
So come live with me outside the lonely fields of midnight may

            F            C                G            C
Well there aint no easy answers when the circus is in town,
 F               C               G
troubled juries hang each other dead.
         F                C          F             C
And the TVs filled with poets, who only write in rhyme,
         F                    C        G             C
and my brother works for the CIA when hes not doing time.

            F            C                G            C
Well there aint no easy answers when the circus is in town,
 F               C               G
troubled juries hang each other dead.
         F                C          F             C
And the TVs filled with poets, who only write in rhyme,
         F                    C        G             C
and my brother works for the CIA when hes not doing time.

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