Capo:fret 4

           C 
Well, its just the fault of circumstance,
    F
The game of youth, the threat of chance.
    C               G            C
And I cant seem to find another way,
   C
To justify my loss of words,
    F
But some day, they say Ill be cured,
     C              G              C
But, be assured Ill always be this way.
    F             G
And we all suffer guilt and shame,
F               C
In the frame of skin and bones,
F                 C
Little one, youre not alone,
Em                   F                  C
I think its time you stepped out of the shade,
    F              G
But who among your chosen ones,
F             C
Am I to be so bold?
F                      C
To the one who cant be told?
Em                F                C
No dont, believe, a single thing I say.



C
But I recall that night right well,
   F
We stood the streets while darkness fell,
      C                G                C
Said, you could tell I had something to say.
C
Well I tried to leave but you said no,
F
That eventually we all must go,
C                        G               C
so we search the town to find out why we stay.
F                    G
And now the days are growing thin,
F                         C
And the leaves litter the streets,
F                      C
And the fog infests my sheets,
Em                        F                 C
And we are each to scared to even greet the day,
F                 G
And all those resolutions
F                  C
unfulfilled,I will soon repeat,
F                   C
cant escape my own deceit,
Em                 F           C
Oh, I do intend to meet myself someday.


C
And it sickens me to see you now,
F
With your pursed lips and your purchase crowd,
C            G                C
Spouting out self-evidence as proof,
C
But you are virtue, you are why,
F
Mothers weep and young men die,
C                  G                     C
For just the sight of the pyrite of your tomb,
F                      G
But what shames me the most my dear,
F                      C
Is the hate you left behind,
F                     C
In the shallows of my mind,
Em
And the cold out lines,
F                      C
Where once you used to lay,
F                    G
So Ill pour out this parting glass,
F                      C
And attempt to wash my hands,
F                     C
Of what your memory demands,
Em                       F                 C
No, I never planned for things to end this way.