buy the roots
intro ( starting at : 31 with the piano ) :
D A ( x2 )
D A
so we start with my father as a boy barely spoke a word of english fell in
D
love from a distance he watched her working from the back fence
he learned some words and some clever turns of phrase from his father’s
A E
book of poets , she wasn’t taken in that instant , but grew impressed with
his persistence .
D E A
they met each other out by moonlight , made love in the nearby woods , then
C#m D
her folks became suspicious when her cycle broke and ( ? ) . they stole
E A
away without their goodbyes , got married in a foreign town , made their way
C#m D
E
as best as they could . found jobs and settled down . and then time moved on .
interlude :
D A ( x2 )
D A
i was born in a river of blood on sheets from the wedding day . the room was dark and the
stench was thick my father couldn’t stand the smell of it .
D
mama died in the night cause the nearest doctor couldn’t stem the blood
A E
loss . father cried out on the back porch . my sister held me at the
D E
neighbor’s house . oh my there was a storm then , there was a flood of A
A C#m
different kind . father’s eyes were often vacant , but his hands were rarely
D E
quiet . sister learned to take her hits well , both from life and the
A C#m
physical kind , but i was never one to lie down , despite who picked the
D E
fight . so we designed our hells .
interlude :
A D E ( x2 )
D E A
father turned into a drinker , a dark bastard with a wooden heart . sister
C#m D
learned to be a mother , before she ever played another part . and i became A
E A
little terror , i lashed out at whatever’s around . took some time before i
C#m D E
settled , to find a mind that was somewhat sound . and like it always does ,
A D E
time rushed on .
A D
six years later father died in the very same bedroom . many said it was the
E A
grief that did it , i have to say it’s cause he hung himself . to be honest
D
neither sister nor myself ever much regret his passing . but i admit it was
E A
a nice thing , to always know that we could feed ourselves .
– ben malley
buy the roots
intro ( starting at : 31 with the piano ) :
D A ( x2 )
D A
so we start with my father as a boy barely spoke a word of english fell in
D
love from a distance he watched her working from the back fence
he learned some words and some clever turns of phrase from his father’s
A E
book of poets , she wasn’t taken in that instant , but grew impressed with
his persistence .
D E A
they met each other out by moonlight , made love in the nearby woods , then
C#m D
her folks became suspicious when her cycle broke and ( ? ) . they stole
E A
away without their goodbyes , got married in a foreign town , made their way
C#m D
E
as best as they could . found jobs and settled down . and then time moved on .
interlude :
D A ( x2 )
D A
i was born in a river of blood on sheets from the wedding day . the room was dark and the
stench was thick my father couldn’t stand the smell of it .
D
mama died in the night cause the nearest doctor couldn’t stem the blood
A E
loss . father cried out on the back porch . my sister held me at the
D E
neighbor’s house . oh my there was a storm then , there was a flood of A
A C#m
different kind . father’s eyes were often vacant , but his hands were rarely
D E
quiet . sister learned to take her hits well , both from life and the
A C#m
physical kind , but i was never one to lie down , despite who picked the
D E
fight . so we designed our hells .
interlude :
A D E ( x2 )
D E A
father turned into a drinker , a dark bastard with a wooden heart . sister
C#m D
learned to be a mother , before she ever played another part . and i became A
E A
little terror , i lashed out at whatever’s around . took some time before i
C#m D E
settled , to find a mind that was somewhat sound . and like it always does ,
A D E
time rushed on .
A D
six years later father died in the very same bedroom . many said it was the
E A
grief that did it , i have to say it’s cause he hung himself . to be honest
D
neither sister nor myself ever much regret his passing . but i admit it was
E A
a nice thing , to always know that we could feed ourselves .
– ben malley
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