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