Sting

✖

Тональность: ▼ 0 ▲

1 из 6

2 из 6

3 из 6

4 из 6

5 из 6

6 из 6

1 из 7

2 из 7

3 из 7

4 из 7

5 из 7

6 из 7

7 из 7

1 из 5

2 из 5

3 из 5

4 из 5

5 из 5

 

 

Am G C  (x4)

Am                  G     C
Bring me a glass of water
   Am       G            C
To wash the dirt from my throat
Am        G                  C
I've been wandering my whole life out there
Am                G      C
Help me out of my coat
     Am         G        C
This water's as clear as crystal
          Am        G             C
We should thank the Lord for that
Am      G                   C
Sit you down and hear my story
Am             G          F
Find somewhere for my hat
Am        G                  C
A barkeep takes a stranger's hat
Am          G           C
And finds a vacant hook
Am         G           C
Turns back towards the traveller
          F
His right hand on an old black book

Chorus:
Am       G       Dm
The holy Book of Numbers
  Dm            G                 Am
I take it's something that you've read?
Am       G             Dm
The long search in the wilderness
Dm             G      F
For a place to lay my head

Am          G           C
So many parables in the scriptures
    Am           G               C
But this one I'm doomed to tell
    Am        G           C
For I stormed the gates of Heaven
   Am     G            C
To find myself in Hell
Am         G      C
This is my lonely mission
   Am             G              C
To wake the world up to its fate
Am           G           C
To dismantle my own invention
        Am              G     F  Dm
For the hour is getting late

Chorus:
Am        G       Dm
This holy Book of Numbers
      Dm               G               Am
As we walk through the shadow of death
Am       G                  Dm
Tell me, are you listening, boy
   Dm        G          Am
Or am I just wasting my breath?
          Am           G               C
There are fools in the courts of power
           Dm                  G                    Am
While I've walked through this vale of bitter tears
       Am         G         C
At the mercy of recording angels
          Dm               G          F
For three score and twenty-five years

    Am      G                C
The barkeep gets up from the table
   Am              G     C
To fill up another glass
   Am              G             C
He turns around to find an empty chair
           Am          G           C
All that's left is the name in his hat