The Good Life - The moon red handed

^Amtell me, dear, is there anything you'd ^Emlike to hear? ^E one last song before we ^Amdisappear? some ^Dmbroken hearted ^Eballad ^Fbuilt for two.

^Amby the way, it seems my notebooks have ^Embeen misplaced ^E those scribbled poetries of ^Amyesterday they've ^Dmno more effect on ^Eme, those ^Dmdead fee^Elings

^Dmthe songs ^Gwe don’t ^Amsing are the hardest to h^Dmear. words ^Gleft un^Amsaid, words we wish we'd forg^Dmet. the guilt ^Gslips from our l^Amips, confessions ^Fhidden be^Ehind eyelids. would you look me in the ^Feye ^Em and tell me ^F does the moon weep at ^Emdawn? ^F his brilliance ex^Emposed ^F by a fierce and burning ^Emsun. ^Dmthe songs ^Gwe don't ^Amsing we don't want to ^Dmhear. words ^Gleft un^Amsaid well, they're only words ^Dm we lick the ^Gguilt form our ^Amlips, we make con^Ffessions from ^Efertile hips and never look them in the ^Dmeye^G. ^Am