Cifras
Travellers Tales

Tom: C

Introdução: C    F    Dm7    C    F    Dm    G    

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C                                                                                                                 F  
Each Sunday morning's the same as the one before
                  Dm                                                                         C  
That's something that means more and more
        G                         F                                      C  
To me, as the years turn into rituals
        G                    F                                                                                                              C                         F      Dm    G  
To me    -    I like the peace, the peace that at home can bring
          C                                                                                                            F  
The grey skies of London could tell a tale or two
Dm                                            C  
And maybe some are true
                G                    F                                    C  
While some are fables from forgotten times
                G                              F                                                                 C                    Am  
While some    -    are dreams snatched from thin air
                                        G                      Am  
What are these stories?
                                        G                 Am  
But travellers tales
                                                                  G                         F  
While the household lies sleeping
                                                  Am  
I'll set my sails
                             G                    Am  
Tales of adventure
                                D            F  
Fortune and fame
                                     C                    G  
Heartache and romance
Of pride and of shame
C                                                                                                                 F  
Time waits for no man, no man can turn back time
          Dm                                                      C  
I'm guilty of the crime of trying
        G                      F                                            C  
To hold onto days so long gone now
        G                                 F                                            C  
To hold    -    onto love that has now flown
        C         F      Dm      C                 F      Dm      C                 F      Dm      C                 F      Dm  
                        C                                                                                                                 F  
                        Each Sunday morning's the same as the one before