Verse
G#m F#
All the actors say the streets are bathed in fire
G#m F#
And all the action happens in the mouth of a bourboned liar
E B
We're gonna riot on the streets today!
E B
Smash an apple on the face of the state:
[Chorus]
E F# E F#
Fundamentally opposed to the cut of your clothes
E F# E F# G#m A#m
Put your mouth in the sky and push it to edge of flight.
[Verse 2]
G#m F#
Autumn's faction bursts into the Hyatt and demands a sum:
G#m F#
The golden statue puzzles and attempts one awkward pun:
E B
Feed a fever as the five fevers rage
E B
Feed a fever and paginate your page!
[Chorus]
E F# E F#
Fundamentally opposed to the cost of your coal
E F# E F#
Shopkeeper keeps a bowl and he spits his mouth's full
E F# E F#
In spite of the winds and the customs of pimps:
E F# E F#
The moon sheds its rise! The moon sheds its rise!
D#m C#m B A#m F# G#m
e|--------------------------------------------------|
B|--------------------------------------------------|
G|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--9----7----5----4----0--2/-----------------------|
A|--------------------------------------------------|
E|--------------------------------------------------|
[Bridge]
C#m G#m
The country child culled an abundance of hay:
C#m G#m E
And I want his uncle's gold: And I want it today-ay!
G#m E
I said it!
G#m E
I said it!
G#m E G#m
I said it! Four fingered-waif's got to stop!
B C# B A#m F# G#m
e|--------------------------------------------------|
B|--------------------------------------------------|
G|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------| x2
A|--10----12----10--12--10--9--10--9--5----7--------|
E|--------------------------------------------------|
(I think this is the bass line... anyway it sounds pretty good to me!)
[Outro]
E G#m E G#m
You don't fear the reaper, you don't fear his son,
E G#m E G#m B
You better fear the chorus, twelve ragged fingers pointed out at one!
G#m B
You stick a rose in the golden sand!
G#m B
You stick a rose in the golden sand!
G#m B
You stick a rose in the golden sand!
G#m
One writer is short of his daisies...
B C# B A#m F# G#m
e|--------------------------------------------------|
B|--------------------------------------------------|
G|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
A|--10----12----10--12--10--9--10--9--5----7--------|
E|--------------------------------------------------|