capo on third fret 

C F C G (x2) 

F                      C                    G               C 
Well Grace she is gone she's a half written poem 
F                   C                    G                Am    G 
She went out for cigarettes and never came home 
F                          C                  G                 Am 
And I swallowed the sun and screamed and wailed 
F                     C                          G              C 
Straight down to the dirt so I could find her trail 
F                   E                  C 
Spread out cross the great divine 

Well I just came to talk Saint Valentine 
I never pictured you living here  
With the rats and the vines 
Ain't that my own heart 
Hanging out on the line? 
Oh you're all fucked up 
Saint Valentine 

Now I circle the bars on the promenade 
While the girls in the glass they're just throwing me shades 
And I'm saving my coins up for jingle and jane 

While she's out plucking strings in the pouring pouring 
She's out plucking strings in the pouring rain 

See I'm all crooked feet Saint Valentine 
I've circled this map till they've gone on fire 

Now Grace she has left you just skin and bones 
Well you hang up your hat  
But you can't call it home 
Well you've tried and you've tried 
But you can't call it home 

You're the loneliest one Saint Valentine 
You're the loneliest one Saint Valentine 
Well you're all fucked up 
Saint Valentine