Bright Eyes - From a balance beam

^DThere is a man holding a megaphone, so he ^Amust have been the voice of God. The bystand^D7ers claimed they saw angels flying u^Gp and down the block. Gm(300230) Well, they must have been attached to wires. I saw one laying in the ^Bmlawn with a br^Aoken arm, so I called^A 911. So that is one l^Dess founded opinion. One more ^Acause for a dispute. So the s^D7treet filled, like a basin, up with c^Gameras and their crews and they ^Gmwashed away the rumors leaving j^Bmust the concrete truth. It was a s^Apectacle. No, I mean a ^Amiracle. So then I ^Dfell like that girl from a b^Aalance beam. A gym^D7nasium of eyes were all ho^Glding on to me. I lifted one foo^Gmt to cross the other and I f^Bmelt myself slipping. It was a s^Amall mistake. Sometimes that is ^Aall it takes. ^Bm Now I'm staring at my wr^Gist, hoping that the timing is r^Aight. When the planes w^Dill align. There will be no planets to ^Galign. Just the carcass of the^Gm sun and those little painted m^Gmarbles spinning endless through an endless black sky.

It was in a f^Doreign hotel's bathtub I bapt^Aized myself in change. And ^D7one by one I drowned all of the p^Geople I had been. I em^Gmerged to find the parallels were ^Bmfewer. I was cleansed. I looked ^Ain the mirror and someone ^Anew was there. Still, I was as h^Delpless as a chess piece when I was lifted^A up by someone's hand and de^D7livered from the corner my enemi^Ges had got me in. But in ^Gmall of my salvation I still ^Bmfelt imprisoned inside that ho^Alding cell that is ^Amyself. So I w^Dait for the day when I'll h^Aear the key as it ^D7turns in the lock and the ^Gguard will say to me, "Oh my patient prisoner you have waited for this day ^Bm and finally you are f^Aree! You are free! You are^A freezing." ^Bm Now I'm staring at the su^Gn, waiting for it to ex^Aplode. Because a day is gonna c^Dome, don't know when but it will ^Gcome and then we will finally know the^Gm way out of here.

^GmAnd I will throw away this wrinkled map and my chart of stars and compass, cracked. And I'll climb out that tree all wet with sap to avoid the hungry beasts below. I'll cut out my love's tongue and sing of a graveyard gray and a garden green and then we won't have to worry no more. No we won't ever worry again abouthow this song or story ends about how this song and story will end.