Cifras
We Are The Dead

Gm                                         Bb                 F  
Something kind of hit me today, I looked at you and
Dm                                    D                                 Eb    Bb  
Wondered if you saw things my way
F                            D                         Gm  
People will hold us to blame
        Gm7              Eb              C                    F  
It hit me today, it hit me today
                Gm                    Bb                            F  
We're taking it hard all the time
                                                        Dm                 D                              Eb                                      Bb  
Why don't we pass it by, just reply you've changed your mind
                F                                            D                            Gm  
We're fighting with the eyes of the blind
Gm7                 Eb         C                      F                      Eb    Dm    Bb  
Taking it hard, taking it hard, yet now
        Ab                                      Gb            F                                                 C  
We feel that we are paper, choking on you nightly
             Bb                                    Ab                              Gb                                         F  
They tell me son, we want you, be elusive, but don't walk far
                          C                                      Bb                    Ab                                                 Gb  
For we're breaking in the new boys, deceive your next of kin
                             F                                            C                            Bb                      Ab  
For you're dancing where the dogs decay, defecating ecstasy
                                        Gb                         F  
You're just an ally of the leecher
     C                                 Bb                                            Ab                                      Gb  
Locator for the virgin King, but I love you in your fuck me pumps
                        F                                            C  
And your nimble dress that trails
          Bb                                            Ab                                         Gb                                      F  
Oh, dress yourself, my urchin one, for I hear them on the rails
                             C                                 Bb                            Ab  
Because of all we've seen, because of all we've said
Gb                      D    C    D    C  
We are the dead
Gm                                         Bb                            F  
One thing kind of touched me today
                                                     Dm                                 D                              Eb    Bb  
I looked at you and counted all the times we had laid
F                              D                                         Gm  
Pressing our love through the night
Gm7                         Eb            C                              F  
Knowing it's right, knowing it's right
Gm                                 Bb                              F  
Now I'm hoping some one will care
                                     Dm                         D                         Eb         Bb  
Living on the breath of a hope to be shared
F                                      D                            Gm  
Trusting on the sons of our love
             Gm7                         Eb         C                              F                      Eb    Dm    Bb  
That someone will care, someone will care, but now
                     Ab                                    Gb                      F                                                                      C  
We're today's scrambled creatures, locked in tomorrow's double feature
Bb                                    Ab                         Gb                                      F  
Heaven's on the pillow, its silence competes with hell
                  C                                         Bb                                 Ab                                      Gb  
It's a twenty four hour service, guaranteed to make you tell
                     F                                                 C  
And the streets are full of press men
                     Bb                                      Ab  
Bent on getting hung and buried
                     Gb                    F                              C                                         Bb  
And the legendary curtains are drawn round Baby Bankrupt
          Ab                                                      Gb  
Who sucks you while you're sleeping
                        F                              C  
It's the theater of financiers
                                Bb                              Ab  
Count them, fifty round a table
Gb                                                 F  
White and dressed to kill
             C                                            Bb  
Oh caress yourself, my juicy
                  Ab                                            Gb  
For my hands have all but withered
        F                                            C                                            Bb                                      Ab  
Oh dress yourself my urchin one, for I hear them on the stairs
                             Gb                              F  
Because of all we've seen
C                         Bb  
Because of all we've said
D                         C      D  
We are the dead
C                         D      C    D  
We are the dead
C                         D      C    D    C  
We are the dead
         Gm    Bb    F