G#m F# E F#
G#m F# E F#
It's gonna take an airplane to get me off the ground.
G#m F# E F#
I don't blame anyone who isn't sticking around,
F# E F# E
Cause when you stick around (when you stick around)
F# E
People like to put things in the ground.
G#m F# E F#
Now, in my Evil empire
G#m F# E F#
I F#m gonna be a star in the
F# E F# E F#
Night sky above. "So you think this is love?"
E
Yes, I guess so, At least something to make it from...
E D#m
Dressed like a dream dreamt by Lola magazine,
G#m C#m
Baby you were born to be seen.
E F#
And art's just the start!
E
Now step inside the Widowmaker
F#
And listen to your heart!
E F# G#m
Always 'the play', never 'the thing'...
G#m F# E F#
Sub-ma-rines
G#m F# E F#
don't mind
G#m F# E F#
spending their time in the ocean