Dead Poetic

Dead Poetic

Vices
nível fácil
Capotraste 6ª casa 



Verso 1: 

Am              F            C               G 
Feeling cold, feeling empty. Set the stage, where you want me. 
        Am            F                   C            G 
And this crowd right before me doesn’t care that I’m dying. 
Am                                   F                 C            G 
And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me. 
          Am              F                      C                   G 
I’m so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind. 


[Refrão]
Am F C Oh, but Child. I’ve got Vices like any other man. Verso 2: Raise a boy to a cynic. Take his love, and then let it turn into something passionate. Something sick, something rabid. And I vent to keep myself from caving. I don’t hate you, I just hate where I’m heading. I’m left here asking, when did I trade in my bleeding heart for a selfish win?
[Refrão]
Am F C Oh, but Mother. I’ve got Vices like any other man. Am F C G Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me. Verso 3: Leave me numb. Leave me jaded. She’s a dream, I just play dead. I’ve been blessed, I’ve been hated. She’s the constant, and I’m her addict. She’s the only peace in this world, uneasy. While I bite my tongue to keep from breaking the heart that I’ve spent my whole life seeking. The only heart I’ve ever needed.
[Refrão]
Am F C G Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man. Am F C G Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think... Am F C G Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man. Am F C G Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me. Less of me. Verse 4: Feeling cold, feeling empty. I am low, unworthy. Bleed the God. Bleed the blessing. Like a vulture feasting. I’ll exist as if I don’t feel conviction of my ignorance to my perfect prison. But I feel the stabs on my wrists and ankles every time I try... Am F To forget you. C G To forget you.
[Refrão]
Am F C G Oh, but Jesus. I’ve got Vices like any other man. Am F C G Am Vices that you’re so used to. Vices that won’t make you think less of me.

Enviado por: Amanda Claudino

Corrigido por: sem correções