Tiny Glowing Screens Part 2

Em7   C        Bm   Em

        Am
There’s 7 billion 46 million people on the planet
And most of us have the audacity to think we matter
C D      Em7                                            C
Hey, you hear the one about the comedian who croaked?
Someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little poke
               Bm                                                     Em
But he keeled over ‘cause he went into battle wearing chain mail made of jokes
Am
Hey, you hear the one about the screenwriter who passed away?
                                                                  C
He was giving elevator pitches and the elevator got stuck halfway
     D             Em7                                                   C
He ended up eating smushed sandwiches they pushed through a crack in the door
And repeating the same crappy screenplay idea about talking dogs 'til his last day
     Bm                                                Em
Hey, you hear the one about the fisherman who passed?
               Am
He didn’t jump off that ledge
He just stepped out into the air and pulled the ground up towards him really fast
                                                    C     D
Like he was pitching a line and went fishing for concrete
         Em7                              C
The earth is a drum and he’s hitting it on beat
The reason there’s smog in Los Angeles is ‘cause if we could see the stars
                           Bm
If we could see the context of the universe in which we exist
                 Em             Am
And we could see how small each one of us is
Against the vastness of what we don’t know
                                                       C
No one would ever audition for a McDonalds commercial again
D             Em7
And then where would we be?
          C
No frozen dinners and no TV
And is that a world we want to text in?
Either someone just microwaved popcorn
             Bm                                                           Em                Am
Or I hear the sound of a thousand people pulling their heads out of their asses in rapid succession
The people are hunched over in Boston
They’re starting app stores and screen printing companies in San Francisco
            C             D                  Em7
They’re grinning in Los Angeles like they’ve got fishhooks in the corners of their mouth
   C
But don’t paint me like the good guy ‘cause every time I write
                                                           Bm
I get to choose the angle that you view me and select the nicest light
                                 Em                        Am
You wouldn’t respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter tap tap
Tapping through my mind at night
The same stupid tape loop of old sitcom dialogue
                                  C            D         Em7
And tattered memories of a girl I got to grind on in high school
                         C
Filed carefully on rice paper
My heart is a colored pencil
But my brain is an eraser
                                                    Bm
I don’t want a real girl, I want to trace her from a catalogue
              Em                   Am
Truth be told I’m unlikely to hold you down
Cause my soul is a crowded subway train
And people keep deciding to get on the next one that rolls through town
             C          D           Em7
I’m joining a false movement in San Francisco
                              C
I’m frowning and hunched over in Boston
I’m smiling in Los Angeles like I’ve got fishhooks in the corners of my mouth
                    Bm
And I’m celebrating on weekends
                       Em      Am
Because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet
And I have the audacity to think I matter
                                                C
I know it’s a lie but I prefer it to the alternative
                 D       Em7
Because I’ve got a tourniquet tied at my elbow
                      C
I’ve got a blunt wrap filled with compliments and I’m burnin it
                                                                              Bm
You say to go to sleep but I been bouncing off my bedroom walls since I was hecka small
                              Em                                 Am
We’re every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls
My mother is an 8 year old girl
My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed
           C          D            Em7
And that’s the glue between me and you
That’s the screws and nails
           C
We live in a house made of each other
And if that sounds strange that’s because it is
        Bm                                             Em                   Am
Someone please freeze time so I can run around turning everyone’s pockets inside out

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