Tom: A
Introdução:
Am
And I have lived in a junkyard, where the weeds eat up the rain
Am
You get anything there, you are out of place
Am
You know there's hell to pay
F C G
And say, "You're are sick, as you are lovely
F C G
And in need of a hand"
F C G
He tells me, you are never worthy
F C F C
But I was just a child you see, that's my reality
He had a sick little girl, dirty and harmed with a breast plate made of metal