Tom Beck - The longing

It's the l^Cight you see underneath the door and the s^Fhadow of the footsteps on the floor the hang up call that you can't ig^Gnore it's the f^Cace you cross the room

and the r^Foom reflection in the bottom of the broken glass just like the night b^Cefore

The ^Cnoisy clock beside your bed ^Feven with the pillow wrapped aro^Cund your head ^Cthe voice inside that won't shut up the pounding in your chest that j^Fust ^Gwon't ^Fstop

^C It's hard to ^Glose the love we ^Fmake can't t^Cake the ^Glonging ^C We won't forg^Get we might forg^Five we do^Cn't outl^Give the l^Conging

It's the t^Cime you spent at the mad in here as you ca^Fn't go home where you have to face (G) C the stupid life half lived and the other half not worse living you turn ^Con the light but it's still pitch dark and the w^Friting on the wall is a question mark you d^Con't know where and you don't know when but if you'll ever have this strange to ^Ftry ^Gag^Fain

^C It's hard to ^Glose the love we ^Fmake can't ta^Cke the lo^Gnging ^C We won't for^Gget we might fo^Frgive we d^Con't outl^Give the l^Fonging The ^Cwanting the ne^Geding the feeling of the r^Ceaching for the rest of your li^Fiiiiiife

^C It's hard to l^Gose the love we ^Fmake can't t^Cake the lo^Gnging ^C We won't forg^Get we might forg^Five we d^Con't outl^Give the l^Fonging Ohhh the L^Conging ^Guh^Chhhh....