Conor Oberst - Tachycardia

^CIt's a mass g^Emrave ^DmA dollar-fifty res^Cting place ^COn the north ^Emface ^Dmthere's a rope I've gott^Ga climb ^AmI'm a stone's th^Grow ^Ffrom everyone I lo^Emve and know ^AmBut I can't s^Emhow up ^Flooking like^G I do

^CIn an old s^Emuit ^Dmmy hair is slicked up back n^Cice and smooth ^CIn a court r^Emoom, ^Dmsweat rolling down my b^Gack ^AmIt's a bad dr^Geam ^FI have it seven ti^Emmes a week ^AmNo it was not^Em me ^FBut I'm the one who h^Gas to d^Cie

^CNeeds a cold d^Emraw ^Dmto slow his tachycar^Cdia ^CIn a dark ^Embar ^Dmthe world just melts a^Gway ^AmAnd he feels f^Gine ^FIf he can just lose tr^Emack of time ^AmIt's a good s^Emign ^Fwhen he can't stay ^Gawake

^COn a slow d^Emay ^Dmthe rain against the wi^Cndowpane ^Cof the ca^Emfe ^DmShe spills the coffee gro^Gunds ^AmAnd the same tho^Gught ^Fhits her like a cinde^Emr block ^AmLife's an odd j^Emob ^Fthat she don't got the ^Gnerve to qui^Ct

^CYeah it's just ^Emthere ^DmAt the bottom of those sp^Ciral stairs ^CIt's the world's ^Emfair ^DmThe future's on di^Gsplay ^AmIn the still ni^Gght ^FThey turned on the e^Emlectric lights ^AmAnd the crowd cr^Emied out ^FEveryone looked ^Gso amaze^Cd