By Colter James Neeley
Huntsville, AL

Capo on the 1st fret

  C                         F 
I wonder if this blade ran through someone's side
    Dm                  FaddG
The blood wiped away to hide
F    FaddG           F         FaddG     F
How evil you grandfather was 'fore he died
     C                     F          C
But war can make monsters out of us all
 Dm                     FaddG       F
I'm sure I'd become one if I was called
     C            Dm      G
And then it would be my blade
            Fmaj7 C
Here at this yardsale



The guitar I am holding is way out of tune
The neck it is warped and the saddle is through
I wonder if sweet music ever was played
From the hands of a boy to a girl in the shade
From this rickety ghost of a song
Here at this yardsale

A dollar for anything here on this quilt
A price tag for hands from which all things are built
A blanket of voices speak pleasure in shame
Flowers of plastic and fruit of the same
A basket of nothing at all
Here at this yardsale

So if I had the money I'd buy everything
And cover the whole lot with good gasoline
And burn it for all that I care for the past
And rid mother earth of what never should last
And give her the present of ash
Made of a yardsale