Intro: D               G                  D 
         

D               G                  D 
Hold your tongue the unwilling and the safe 
                    G        D 
Make your mark in your own tiny way 
                   G                        Bm 
Your own miniature firework display for one 

D              G                 D 
Fear of facing the shadow on the shore 
                G               D 
Tied in knots and hung out on the backdoor 
                                 G          D       Bm 
The 'boy-done-good' thoughts of valour and the all for one 

         A                      D        
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands 
         Bm                       G          D 
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand 
        Em                         Bm 
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between 
    G                    A            D      G      D 
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine 

D                    G                 D 
I eat your words and you mark my mistakes 
                     G        D
We set the dictionary up to fail 
                       G      D            Bm   G 
The work of poets is a vapour we exhale it's gone 

D                  G            D
Fleeting fondness is a flicker in your frown 
                 G               D
Spilling out in adjectives and nouns 
                            G                                Bm 
A mess of letters once it's chewed and swallowed down all gone 

         A                      D        
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands 
         Bm                       G          D 
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand 
        Em                         Bm 
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between 
    G                    A            D      G      D 
The worry of bearing the ghost in the machine 

F 
How do you feel pain? 
C 
(Tremors through the floor) 
F                
How do you hear sound? 
Am 
(Tapping on the walls) 
F 
I wish I could feel it all 
        G                     F (P.M) 
(I wish I could feel it all) 

         G                      C 
It's the beetle in the box that shakes in your hands 
         Am                       F     C 
And it's formed out of feelings I don't understand 
        Dm                         Am 
They're mapped in the gaps and the spaces between 
    Am                   G 
The worry of bearing the ghost  
    F                    G 
The worry of bearing the ghost  
       C        F     C     (P.M) 
In the machine  

Music by Admiral Fallow.