Intro: F#m A F#m A Bm A

F#m                    A
      Someone got shot dead 'round here.
F#m               A                Bm                 D
      People left flowers by the Ribena stains on the pavement.
F#m      D               A         Bm   D
Friends, neighbours, strangers.

          F#m             A                       F#m
A million blooms, one day dusty, the next wet and ragged.
          A                 Bm            D
So, guess what? I took them all home with me
          F#m                   D                      A            Bm    D 
in a wheelbarrow and filled the bathroom from floor to ceiling, and listen, 
F#m                 A
       there was no devine damnation
F#m                   A
       no cosmic retribution.
                Bm                         D                             F#m
Once the petals wilted, I pressed them all flat in the largest book I've got.
   D             A                 Bm     D                F#m    Bm A F#m
On wet days, the ghost sits in the kitchen leafing through it.

         Bm A F#m             
He's not grey or wraith-like,
Bm  A  F#m               Bm A F#m
    but bright and solid,
Bm   A     F#m
like a new bike.

D                         A              Bm   D    F#m
Looks at the faded colours and plays the radio too loud,
            D            A                 Bm     D
and makes a damn mess of fag butts and tea leaves.