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