Don McLean - Tapestry

^GEvery t^G/F#hread of creatio^Emn is held in positi^Am7on by st^Cill other strands of things l^Diving. ^GIn an e^G/F#arthly tapestry ^Emhung from the skyline ^Am7of smouldering cities so gra^Cy and so vulgar, ^Gas not ^G/F#to be satisfied with their ^Emown negativity ^Am7but needing to t^Couch all the li^Dving as we^Gll.

^GEvery b^G/F#reeze that blows^Em kindly is one crys^Am7tal breath we ex^Chale on the blue diamond heav^Den. ^GAs gent^G/F#le to touch as t^Emhe hands of the hea^Am7ler. ^Am7As soft as farewells whisper^Ced over the coffin. ^GWe’re p^G/F#oisoned by venom^Em with each breath w^Am7e take, ^Am7from the brown s^Culphur chimney ^Dand the bl^Gack highway snake.

^GEvery d^G/F#awn that breaks ^Emgolden is held in s^Am7uspension like ^Cthe yoke of the egg in albume^Dn. ^GWhere t^G/F#he birth and the^Em death of unseen ge^Am7nerations ^Am7are interdependent in vast o^Crchestration ^Gand pai^G/F#nted in colors o^Emf tapestry threa^Am7d. ^Am7When the dying a^Cre born and the^D living ar^Ge dead.

^GEvery p^G/F#ulse of your hea^Emrtbeat is one liqui^Am7d moment that ^Cflows through the veins of yo^Dur being. ^GLike a ^G/F#river of life fl^Emowing on since crea^Am7tion. ^Am7Approaching the sea with eac^Ch new generation. ^GYou’re ^G/F#now just a stagn^Emant and rancid disg^Am7race ^Am7that is rapidly ^Cdrowning the wh^Dole human ^Grace.

^GEvery f^G/F#ish that swims s^Emilent, every bird t^Am7hat flies freely, every^C doe that steps softly^D. ^GEvery c^G/F#risp leaf that f^Emalls, all the flowe^Am7rs that grow ^Am7on this colourful tapestry, ^Csomehow they know. ^GThat if^G/F# man is allowed ^Emto destroy all they^Am7 need. ^Am7He will soon hav^Ce to pay with h^Dis life, f^Gor his greed.