Pat Green - Poetry

S^Gome things I've d^Em7one make^G/F# my conscience bu^Crn, My very spine shutter and squirm. ^GI only hope t^Em7hat I've l^G/F#earned f^Crom my sins. ^GI heard a voice when ^Em7I was 1^G/F#3, Got ba^Cptised and washed up clean. But the w^Gorld has a way, if you k^Em7now what I ^G/F#mean, ^COf scuffin' you up again.

I^D can't exp^D/F#lain a bles^Gsed thing, Not a fa^Cllen star or a feathered wing, Or h^Dow a man in c^D/F#hains can have the st^Grength to s^Cing. ^DJust one t^D/F#hing is c^Glear to me, like a bird) There's al^Cways more than what appears to be And when the li^Dght's just r^D/F#ight I sw^Gear I ^C see...poetry. -

^GWell, somebody made e^Em7veryt^G/F#hing From my s^Coul inside out to Saturn's rings, How my b^Gaby smiles, how ^Em7Ray C^G/F#harles sin^Cgs...

Cl^Gouds make rain, the o^Em7cean makes ^G/F#sand, The e^Carth breathes fire, and lava makes land. W^Gell, that took a m^Em7ighty ^G/F#hand And a w^Cild imagination.

D^Greams I dreamed came ^Em7back ten-^G/F#fold From the fr^Ciends that I have to the woman I hold. ^GI look down on a s^Em7treet of ^G/F#gold, After a^Cll the mud along the way. S^Gometimes a big ol' m^Em7yste^G/F#ry can l^Cead right in on me. Says that ^GI am home and ^Em7I am ^G/F#free... And I^C'll take that anyday.

^DJust one t^D/F#hing is c^Glear to me, There's al^Cways more than what appears to be And when the li^Dght's just r^D/F#ight I sw^Gear I ^C see...poetry.