Tom: A
Introdução:
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The click of the front door
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Your clothes left on the floor
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Bike wheels, still turning
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Where you left them on the back lawn
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Your voices recede and
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Your fingers slip from my hand
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White skies and silence
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A lifeless wind burns through the Downland
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And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
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And you're not home, home, home, home, home
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I sit and stare, I sit and stare
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Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone
Ab9 Ab4
I love that silver-grey first morning light
Ab9 Ab4
I see that fearless love in your blue eyes
Ab9 Ab4
Think I can picture some new shape of life
Ab9
But now you're not home
Ab4
You're not home
Ab9 Ab4
Not home
Ab9 Ab4
And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Ab9 Ab4
When you're not home, home, home, home, home
Ab9 Ab4
I sit and stare, I sit and stare
Ab9 Ab4
Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone
Ab9 Ab4
I love that silver-grey first morning light
Ab9 Ab4
I see that fearless love in your blue eyes
Ab9 Ab4
Think I can picture some new shape of life
Ab9
But now you're not home
Ab4
No, you're not home
Ab9 Bbm
I love that silver-grey first morning light
Ab/C Bbm
I see that fearless love in your blue eyes
Ab/C Dbm Bbm
Think I can picture some new shape of life
Ab9
But now you're not home
Ab4
No, you're not home
Ab9
Not home
Ab4
No, you're not home
Ab9
Not home
Ab4
No, you're not home
Ab9
Not home
Ab
No, you're not home