The Good Life - Inmates

^DWhen you said you loved me, did you really lo^Bmve me or did the words just ^Bbspill out like drool on^A my pillow. '^DCause I was naked when you ^Bmsaid those words, but I felt cov^Bbered in your whispered^A worship. And as you^G passed out fast on my ^Dshoulder, I i^Gmagined a child ^Bmwaiting so sad and still for his mom to ^Bbarrive. ^DDid she leave you an orphan, ^Ain that big, brown leather chair' ^BbSaid, " Don't you move a muscle, kid, I^G'll be back in twenty years," ^DYou were scared, you were lonely, ^Abut you must've been aware; ^Bblife is a series of calluses, ^Gthis is just another layer. ^BmSo, build'em up, tough it out, y^Bbeah, that's your skin – don't let anyone

^DWhen I said I loved you, it was because ^BmI loved you. When I said I neede^Bbd you, well, I really nee^Ad you. Y^Deah, I guess you hurt me, for once you're a ^Bmman of your words. Well, guess wha^Bbt – I'm leaving – I can't be you^Ar prisoner. I can't be your p^Grisoner-I^D won't, I can't be your ^Gprisoner-I^D won't