Verse
A E C#m B
There are days I feel so lucky all I can think of is you dying
A E B
'cuz I'm worried that life owes me one
A E C#m B
But the arbitrary happenstance of tragedy is tragic
A E B
So the more that these days wear on the more lucky I become
[Chorus]
A E C#m B A B
Yeah that's why you're the voice in my mind (though it's inevitably crowded)
A E C#m B A B
And I'll try to be the type of person you'd be proud of
[Verse 2]
A E C#m B
Though it may be mawkish, And the alt weeklies think it's gauche
A E B
Some hack job that got sold in the room
A E C#m B
B souvenir. B hallmark card. B little banjo hitter swing
A E B
That doesn't mean that it's not true
[Chorus]
A E C#m B
Oh who could lie to you beam of light
A B
With a countenance that's shrouded?
A E C#m B A B
You know I'll try to be the type of person you'd be proud of
[Outro]
A E
I know you try!
C#m B
(to be a person you'd be proud of.)
A E
That voice in your mind!
C#m B
(say, "Be a person you'd be proud of.")
A E
Oh beam of light!
C#m B
(No, just a person you'd be proud of.)
A E
And who could lie
C#m B
To a person you'd be proud of?