THERE ARE LITTLE BITS IN THE VERSES SOMETIMES HERE THEY ARE:


(1)

e | ------ | 
b | ------ | 
g | -3---- | ---slight bend on the g string
d | ----4- | 
a | ------ | 
e | ------ | 

(2)

e | ------ | 
b | ------ | 
g | -4--3- | ---go ahead and whack a slight bend on these too
d | ------ | 
a | ------ | 
e | ------ | 


I WILL REFER TO THEM BELOW AS (1) AND (2)
IT IS THE EASIEST WAY I COULD THINK TO DO IT


------------------------------------------------------------------------


The intro is a frantically picked Abm for about 30 seconds,
then this happens:

e | ------------------------- | 
b | -------------------5~~~~~ | 
g | -(b9)-8--------11-8--6~~~~~ | 
d | -------6~~~~~------6~~~~~ | 
a | -7--6--6~~~~~(b9)-6--4~~~~~ | 
e | -------4~~~~~------------ | 

Carry on frantically picking C#m for a while,
then two single massive strums of Abm ,
and then...

            Ab5                  B5        
...voice of wind, the air in the branches

   (1)       E5                   Ab5
Sounded like words, whispering a spell on me

 (2)    E5 
Until I heard

          Ab5
Now I see shapes in the low light

          B5
The earth quakes in the twilight

      C#5
I see flames in my calm life

                     E5
Hear the wind's dark poem


(((frantic Abm picking with violent wind, if there is some nearby)))


        Ab5
You can see from above, the rocks sticking out of

    B5                                      (1)
the yard behind the house make stone constellations,

E5                                        Eb5      Eb5
   half-buried in the dusk, the unformed stories

          Ab5
coming to life while I sleep.

                                 B5
The breath moves branches saying words that I don't know,

            (1)  E5
a new poem ,         a song I sang in a dream.

    Eb5                   Eb5
The lights of town faint,

               Ab5
something is exhaling in the sound of traffic far away.

             B5                             (1)
Something is happening. Wind's dark poem describes,

E5                                               Eb5          Eb5
   calligraphy of branches writes, stone constellation alive.

                        Ab5                   B5
The house is built on a boulder, soil returns to the wind.

                  (1)     
Bones will blow in pink light.

E5
   The distant sound is saying my name,

Eb5                     Eb5
     the wind is taking pieces.

Ab5                                           Ab5
     Wind's dark poem is about the constantly roaring decay

                                  F#5
The destruction of every day, and every morning's waking.


(((stop playing, sing against the gentle hum of silence)))


But even as spring is bringing blossoms back among leaves,
the cold wind blows when night falls,
and the bare branches bend.


(((gentle hum of silence becomes tidal wave of sound)))


(((end)))