[Intro]
D C G G D C G D
[Verse 1]
D
I'm imagining rippling fingers on keys,
Miming it wild on a cold stone table
D
Picturing and wishing for home and jiggling my knees,
Send an urgent cable
G
Dickhead's done a runner and he's wondering
If anyone cares, is the landing light on?
D
Back to the pebbles that mum's eggs hatched in,
Give me her perfume, give me her prayers and advice
[Verse 2]
D
Hands up if you've never seen the sea,
I'm from a land with an island status
Am
Makes us think that everyone hates us,
Maybe darling they do, but they haven't met you
G
They only know the villains at the tiller
And they gambled the farm on a headline, Jesus
D
Getting harder to see what they're doing 'til it's done
And they're never gonna make an arrest on Fleet Street
[Chorus]
C G
Yes and I'm given to believing in love
I've written the word in my blood
D
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that
C G
Love, opens the fist just enough for a hand
D
To slip into the hand
[Verse 3]
D
I've been asleep in the woods with a mother to be
Planning on a static caravan in the Andes
D
https://www.coveralia.com/acordes/k2-elbow.php
Making a break with the steel magpie on the rise
Defeat in our time or do we
G
Meet on the street again due to the few?
Batter it out and refresh vendetta
D
Better surely to pause, consider the path:
It's full of blood, snot and teeth and the glory of no one
[Verse 4]
D
Hands up if you've never seen the sea
We're from a place with an island status
Am
Queuing round the corner for a pencil and paper again,
Come the virus of virii
G
God send us to a digital end
With following strangers and swiping at friends
D
I'll send you a postcard
See you in Hull, in a sweater made of Atacama llama wool
[Chorus]
C G
Yes and I'm given to believing in love
I've written the word in my blood
D
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that
C G
Love, opens the fist just enough for a hand
D
To slip into the hand
C G
Yes and I'm given to believing in love,
I've written the word in my blood, I've seen it make a heaven of
D
Backstreet, bedsit and bomb-site living room
C G
Love, opens the fist just enough for a hand
D
To slip into the hand, to slip into the hand
[Outro]
D
