The Milk Carton Kids - Younger years

Ab^Amove the plains of Omaha I ^Gthink of all the sufferin' I s^Caw ^E The so^Fakin' of the p^Cavement Sp^Grawled upon a land without a l^Faw ^GEverythin' I loved, e^Cverythin' I fo^Emund what I hoped f^For Frightened and surr^Counded Who ^Gelse is there to turn to anymo^Fre?

^FOh I held out my h^Ceart Oh I h^Feld out my h^Ceart ^FHeld out my hea^Amrt ^{G F} Oh oh o^Ch ^G

There w^Amas a time I spoke the truth But my y^Gounger years were wasted on my yo^Cuth ^{E F}Somewhere I aw^Cakened With a cr^Gack to a poundin' on the r^Foof S^Gure I heard the sound As ^Cevidence, or b^Emetter yet as p^Froof I was naked as the d^Cay I was b^Gorn 'Neath the fullness of the m^Foon

^FOh I held out my h^Ceart Oh I h^Feld out my h^Ceart ^FHeld out my hea^Amrt ^{G F} Oh oh o^Ch ^G

^EmFar a^Fway I hear s^Amingin' ^{G Em}Far awa^Fy a son^Amg ^Em

The b^Amlinding light of morning came Floo^Gding through the window like a fri^Cend ^E Like a w^Fild revel^Cation Like a shi^Gning invitation to att^Fend S^Gpoken as a prayer Unb^Croken by desp^Emair I make ame^Fnds The l^Fove inside our h^Cearts Is the ^Gonly kind of savior we've been ^Fsent

^FOh I held out my h^Ceart Oh I h^Feld out my h^Ceart ^FHeld out my hea^Amrt ^{G F} Oh oh o^Ch ^{G Am G Am}