Radical Face - The mute

^EmWell, as a child I mostly ^Cspoke inside my ^Ghead ^EmI had conversations with the ^Cclouds, the dogs, ^Gthe dead ^EmAnd they thought my broken, that my ^Ctongue was coated ^Glead But I just ^Dcouldn't make my ^Cwords make sense to ^Emthem If you only ^Dlisten with your ^Cears... I can't get ^Gin

^EmAnd I spent my evenings pullin' ^Cstars out of the ^Gsky ^EmAnd I'd arrange them on the ^Clawn where I would ^Glie ^EmAnd in the wind I'd taste the ^Cdreams of distant ^Glives And I would ^Ddress myself up ^Cin them through the ^Emnight While my ^Dfolks would sleep in ^Cseparate beds... and wonder ^Gwhy

^EmAnd through them days I was a ^Cghost atop my ^Gchair ^EmMy dad considered me a ^Ccross he had to ^Gbear ^EmAnd in my head I'd sing ^Capologies and ^Gstare As my ^Dmom would hang the ^Cclothes across the ^Emline And she would ^Dtry to keep the ^Cempty... from her ^Geyes

^EmSo, then one afternoon I ^Cdressed myself ^Galone ^EmI packed my pillowcase with ^Ceverything I ^Gowned ^EmAnd in my head I said &^Cquot;goodbye," t^Ghen I was gone And I ^Dset out on the ^Cheels of the ^Emunknown So my ^Dfolks could have a ^Cnew life of their ^Emown So that ^Dmaybe I could ^Cfind someone Who could ^Dhear the only ^Cwords that I'd ^Gknown