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