The Sundays - Life goes on

^CBuild me up, don't get me d^Gown Weather the s^Dmtorm Well, l^Fife goes on ^CFeelings ebb and flow by h^Gours You're up in the c^Dmlouds and then you s^Fink like a stone

So do you f^Feed yourself with pills? Hope to d^Ceaden your ills Or are y^Fou only one love short ^Amof happiness And in a p^Ficture on the wall No gl^Cimmer of yourself at all You've l^Dmeft yourself far a^Fway

^CBuild me up, don't mop my b^Grow Weather the st^Dmorm? No... Because li^Ffe goes on ^CIt's my only hope right n^Gow To soar like a b^Dmird and not to s^Fink like a stone

So do you f^Feed yourself with pills? Oh, to d^Ceaden your ills? Or are you only o^Fne love short Of h^Amappiness And in a p^Ficture on the wall No gl^Cimmer of yourself at all You've l^Dmeft yourself far aw^Fay

Oh, so do you f^Feed yourself with pills? To cure yo^Cu of your ills Or are you o^Fnly one love short Of the h^Amappy days to come And in a p^Ficture on the wall You can't s^Cee your face at all So u^Dmnti yourself Because th^Fat's all you've got to do And I can gr^Fow a pair of wings And I can t^Cake off flying

^FUp in the air, looking back do^Amwn And let me tell you, if I t^Falk about gloom I don't get ^Cout of feeling down It str^Dmips you of yourself and it sp^Bblits you from the self that you kn^Cow...