Em
There are fleeting fits of reason between the 
Am
sleeping and the drinks
Where a 
B7
million different sensory 
Em
experiences blink
Em
And it’s there within the momentary 
Am
darkness you can breathe
Cmaj7
Be a form without 
B7
reflection or 
Em
debris

Em
There are bloody bouts of tenderness 
Am
against the bonds of fear
Facing 
B7
combat everlasting, vultures 
Em
circle ever near
Em
Now they’re placing bets deciding who will 
Am
be the first to feast
Cmaj7
We can flood the battle
B7
field with something 
Em
weak

Am
Barrel chested bankers buying 
Em
billboards by the score
Am
Placing all their eggs in baskets 
B7
made of future funeral wars
Em
Now their children fight in microcosmic 
Am
mirrors of their game
Cmaj7
And the messenger will 
B7
always be to 
Em
blame

Em
There are centuries of seasons turning 
Am
white to green to brown
Cycling 
B7
through each sort of sequence, turning 
Em
temperaments around
Em
These incessant spinning seasons making 
Am
dizzy all our days
Cmaj7
We’ll succumb to something 
B7
stranger
Em
anyway
Cmaj7
Some disaster in a 
B7
story ending brand new 
Em
day

Am
Barrel chested bankers buying 
Em
billboards by the score
Am
Placing all their eggs in baskets 
B7
made of future funeral wars
Em
Now their children fight in microcosmic 
Am
mirrors of their game
Cmaj7
And the messenger will 
B7
always be to 
Em
blame
Cmaj7
And the messenger will 
B7always be to 
Em
blame