Tom: F
Introdução:
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My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue,
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an everlasting vision of the everchanging view,
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a wondrous woven magic in bits of blue and gold,
A7M G#m7 F#m B7
a tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold.
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Once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky
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there came a man of fortune, a drifter passing by
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he wore a torn and tattered cloth around his leathered hide
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and a coat of many colors, yellow-green on either side.
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He moved with some uncertainty, as if he didn't know
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just what he was there for, or where he ought to go
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once he reached for something golden hanging from a tree
E7M Gb
and his hand came down - empty.
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Soon within my tapestry along the rutted road
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he sat down on a river rock and turned into a toad,
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it seemed that he had fallen into someone's wicked spell,
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and I wept to see him suffer, though I didn't know him well.
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As I watched in sorrow, there suddenly appeared
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a figure gray and ghostly beneath a flowing beard
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in times of deepest darkness, I've seen him dressed in black
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now my tapestry's unravelling he's come to take me back,
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he's come to take me back.