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D A 1)E 2)F♯m E e |5—————————5————————— 7————7—9—10—12 2—————————7— B |7——5h7—5——5——5h7—5—— 9—10————————— 2—————————9— G |7—————————6————————— 9————————————— 2—————————9— D |7—————————7————————— 9————————————— 4—————————9— A |5—————————7————————— 7————————————— 4—————————7— E |5—————————5————————— 7 ———————————— 2—————————7—
D A E 2x
D A F♯m E
  
I’m coming into 
A
your town.
F♯m
 
E
  
Night is falling to the gr
A
ound, 
F♯m
  
but I can still 
E
see where you loved your
D
self
  
before he 
A
tore it all down. April 
D
12th,
  
with no
A
body else around; you were 
Bm
outside the 
D
house
  
(where’s your 
E
mother?),
F♯m E
when he put you in the car,
when he took you down the road.
And I can still see where it was open,
the door he slammed closed. It was open,
the door he slammed closed. It was open,
long ago.
  
But 
A
don’t lose me 
E
now, don’t lose me 
F♯m
now.
  
Though I know 
D
that I’m not useful 
A
anyhow,
F♯m
just let me stick a
E
round
  
while I 
A
tell you, like be
E
fore,
  
you should 
F♯m
say his name the 
D
way that he said 
A
yours.
  
But you don’t 
F♯m
want to say his name 
E
anymore.
  
Oh, Cynda 
D
Moore. 
A
 
E
D A F♯m E
Baby daughter on the road,
you’re wrapped up warm in daddy’s coat.
And I can still see the cigarette’s heat.
I can’t believe all that you’re telling me,
what is cutting like the smoke through your teeth
as you’re telling me “forget it.”
But if I could tear his throat,
and spill his blood between my jaws,
and erase his name out for good, don’t you know that I would?
Don’t you realize that I wouldn’t pause, that I would
cut him down with my claws if I could have somehow
never let that happen?
Or I’d call, some black midnight, fuck up his new life
where they don’t know what he did,
tell his brand-new wife and his second kid.
Though I tell you, like before,
that you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours,
you want no part of his life anymore.
Oh Cynda Moore,
D A E
don’t lose me now, let me help you out.
Though I know that I can’t help anyhow,
when I watch you I’m proud.
When I tell you twice before
that you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours,
you want no part of his life anymore.
Oh Cynda Moore.
  
And it’ll 
D
never be the 
A
way it was be
E
fore,
  
but I 
D
wish that you would 
A
let me through tha
E
t door.
  
Let me through that 
D
door,
A
 let me through that 
E
door.
  
Let me through that 
D
do
A
or, ba
E
by.
D A E
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tabs/black.txt · Last modified: 2015/01/10 12:24 (external edit)