Tono: G
Introducción:
G
I'm not sad anymore, I'm just tired of this place.
Em Am
The weight of the world be okay if it would pick a shoulder to lean on
D
So I could stand up straight.
G
I'm not sad anymore, I'm just tired of this place.
Em
The homophobic bullshit that's somehow okay
Am D
Just because you didn't mean it that way.
G
I can't take anymore of all the scum in this place.
Am
Shitty dudes with tribal tattoos all around,
Em D
Lining up cheap beer and roofies for a party at their place.
G Am D
Trying to convince freshmen they're somebody
G Am D G
By spending all of their parents' money on kegstands
Am D
And Matt says I don't fit in.
G
All this mallrat goth shit is killing me.
Am D
Thought that would end with high school at least.
G Am
But there are still kids and Matt says
D
"College hit those dudes like a ton of bricks."
(hold all chords)
G B Em
So they're calling it blasphemy,
D Am
A fucking catastrophe
D
For saying it's a stupid choice to make.
G B Em
But this place just brings misery.
D Am
I hate what it does to me.
D
I fight, but I can't escape the way that
G B Em
I don't fit in with any of this.
G B Em
And I don't think we're the same.
G
I'm fucking losing my head trying to understand this.
Em
Kids outside with guitars hoping for someone to notice.
Am D
No one wants to hear your sappy bullshit.
G
All these fake-tan girls laughing at art school kids
Em
Getting lots in return for being substance-less.
Am
You're too caught in semantics to see it,
D
But you're no fucking different.
G B Em
So they're calling it blasphemy,
D Am
A fucking catastrophe
D
For saying it's a stupid choice to make.
(hold all chords)
G B Em
But this place just brings misery.
D Am
I hate what it does to me.
D
I fight, but I can't escape the way that
G B Em
I don't fit in with any of this.
G B Em
And I don't think we're the same.
G
I'm not sad anymore, I'm just waiting.
Em
It's two more months 'til I'm done with this.
G D
And I don't make sense to anyone but my best friends.
G D
And I don't fit in anywhere but the back of the van.
G D
And I don't make sense to anyone but my best friends.
G D
And I don't fit in anywhere but the back of the van.
(hold all chords)
G B Em
So they're calling it blasphemy,
D Am
A fucking catastrophe
D
For saying it's a stupid choice to make.