Verse
F Eb
Rip down the fences that fence the garden,
F Eb
There are mornings when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, with the jeweler's sick delight,
F Gm
And it's morning, and I'm starving, and the shadow-maker's shadow has hardened,
F A#
17, in the morning, I'm crying out warnings in methamphetamines, not alright,
[Chorus 1]
A# C#
They play rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Eb Dm
We're all made of mothers, and not from some cloth,
Eb Dm
But the tail of a cloth, shall be the wearer-cloth,
Gm Eb A#
In the dawn, by the river, I shall swallow my rage!
[Verse 2]
F Eb
Help me, opposer, but the tempest has brought a breath that's rotten,
F Eb
Well, it's 4 in the morning, and the boiler keeps twinkling as the trucks stretch into light,
F Gm
And the judge and his son, they were pigs, so I must flee from this garden,
F A#
And I feel that the next land will be but a fat land, and I hope for the wind and his wolfish bite,
[Chorus 2]
A# C#
That bite, rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Eb Dm
Your fangs are but a page from the book of tough stuff,
Eb Dm
And the Welch's of wine, and I'm gonna pledge you their cups,
Gm Eb A#
If only you could rise into a Saint Peter's life,
Gm Eb A#
Lay a siege upon the city that bequeath you it's light.
[Bridge]
Cm A#
And whoa to the days where we buried our light,
Cm A# Cm
And maters of this day will never get over it's stage fright,
A#
And whoa to the fascist, and his delight,
F Eb
Tears on the floor,
F Eb
Tears on the floor,
F A#
Tears on the floor.
A# Ab A# Ab A# Cm Eb Gm
[Verse 3]
F Eb
And you rip down the fences that fence the garden,
F Eb
It is morning, when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, in a murderer's sick delight,
F Gm
And you can't always control the passing white fire,
F A#
Cause it's water, sweet fuckin' water that makes you feel alright!
[Outro]
F A#
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff,
F A#
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff.
Dm F x4
Ab Eb
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