The tortured poets department

Sáng tác: Jack Antonoff | Ca sĩ: Taylor Swift | Tone gốc: C | Style: -- | Tempo: -- | Beat: 4/4 Ẩn hợp âm Hợp âm cơ bản

[C]You left your typerwriter at my apartment
[F]Straight from the tourtured poets department
[C]I think some things I never say
[F]Like, "Who uses typerwriters anyway?"
[Am]But you're in self-sabotage [G]mode
Throwing spikes down on the [C]road
But I've seen this [F]episode and still love the show
[Am]Who else [C]decodes you?
 
[C]And who's gonna hold you [F]like me?
[C]And who's gonna know you if [F]not me?
 
I laughed in your face and said,
[Dm]"You're not Dylan Thomas. [C]I'm not Patti Smith.
[F]This ain't the Chelsea [C]Hotel. We're modern idiots."
And who's gonna hold you [F]like me?
[C]Nobody
[F]No-xxxxing-body
[F]Nobody
 
[C]You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
[F]We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
[C]I scratch your head, you fall asleep
[F]Like a tattooed golden retriever
[Am]But you awakened with [G]dread, pounding nails in your [C]head
But I've read this [F]one where you come undone
I [Am]chose this [C]cyclone with you
 
[C]And who's gonna hold you [F]like me?
-Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?-
[C]And who's gonna know you if [F]not me? -Who's gonna know you?-
 
I laughed in your face and said,
[Dm]"You're not Dylan Thomas. [C]I'm not Patti Smith.
[F]This ain't the Chelsea [C]Hotel. We're modern idiots."
And who's gonna hold you [F]like me?
 
[C] [F] [C] [F]
 
[C]Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
[F]But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
[C]And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen
[F]Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
[C]'Cause we're [F]crazy
So tell [C]me, who else is gonna [F]know me?
At [Am]dinner you take my ring off my [G]middle finger, and
Put it on the [C]one people put [F]wedding rings on
And that's the [Am]closest I've come to [G]my heart exploding
 
[C]And who's gonna hold you? [F]...Me
[C]And who's gonna know you? [F]...Me
[Dm]And you're not Dylan [C]Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
[F]This ain't the Chelsea [C]Hotel. We're two idiots.
And who's gonna [G]hold you?
 
[C] [F] [C] [F]
 
[Am]You left your [G]typerwriter at my apartment
[C]Straight from the tourtured [F]poets department
[Am]Who else [G]decodes you? [C] [F]
 
[C] [F] [C] [F]