Standard (EADGBE)
Forgive this request, see I'm bleeding half to death. For days I drift and land in your hands,
where all that I know is all I need to know. I take the pen and I write: "You are
anything other than kind."
repeat
The son will gift the color when the ashes are grey on our mother's face.
Giving counsel and giving us a name, such a tender exchange.
But if you're growing bitter as I lead you through the breeze just lead me to the field.
Scatter petals and bury me in weeds. Chop a cross from a tree.
Forgive this request, see I'm bleeding half to death. For days I drift and land in your hands,
where all that I know is all I need to know.
But when the morning looks down on some river too shallow to hold or fire the ammo,
hide between the digger and the plough.
repeat
end in