The Birthday Massacre - Pale

^BmI'm looking at a f^Dace, a pointed c^Ehin towards the sky, an arrogance ^BmIt easily bet^Drays the closest fr^Eiend. No moment lost, no consequence

^BmThe circle st^Darts again, away from y^Gou Deception pu^Alls us in, away from y^Eou ^D Away from y^Gou,^A away from you

^BmAn imi^Atation, ^Da fabri^Ecation ^BmA pretty f^Dake, a counterf^Eeit ^BmAn empty c^Aarcass b^Dehind the a^Ertist ^BmIs there a t^Drace of innoc^Eence?

^BmSo how do you port^Dray the senti^Ement? A ruse is brought, the truth is bent ^BmAnd much to our dis^Dmay, they're ignor^Eant. The more that we make up the more it fits

^BmThe circle st^Darts again, away from y^Gou Deception pu^Alls us in, away from y^Eou ^D Away from y^Gou,^A away from you

^BmAn imi^Atation, ^Da fabri^Ecation ^BmA pretty f^Dake, a counterf^Eeit ^BmAn empty c^Aarcass b^Dehind the a^Ertist ^BmIs there a t^Drace of innoc^Eence?

^GThis doesn't f^Aeel right ^EFeels like everything's further away ^GDead as the n^Aightlife, h^Eindsight, watching another mist^Gake You never f^Aeel right, l^Bmong nights Following into the d^Gay Pale as the st^Dreet light, pu^Ere white Washing the color away

^BmAn imi^Atation, ^Da fabri^Ecation ^BmA pretty f^Dake, a counterf^Eeit ^BmAn empty c^Aarcass b^Dehind the a^Ertist ^BmIs there a t^Drace of innoc^Eence?