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