Jesse Welles – Middle (Guitar)

        E
Simple men within the temple

        C#m
Singing low oh gracious light

                 G#m
While savages beneath the stars

         A
Charted souls projected flights

           F#m
With their axes and their swords

      A
Put away for the night

        E
Cometh song

        D
Cometh dance

        A
Cometh lute

       F#m
Cometh pipe

          E
The road warrior Nazareth patriot

            C#m
Was sighing Zion in excess

           G#m
While the Lord and God of faces

          A
Donned a youthful chain and dress

                  F#m
You have heard it said

 A
Make it great again

               E        E D
Make your own self great

          A
That's a good place to begin

  F#m
Begin

         F#m
When the devil plays his fiddle

           A
I'm gonna meet you in the middle

 E     D  A
Freind

         E
With my silver droid companion

C#m
Beeping at my side

       G#m
As we gazed into the moonset

           A
Wondering where in space we'd hide

         F#m
All the green skinned princess

    A
In systems far away

        E                D
Saying proverbs I can't mean

      A
In a language I can't say

      F#m
Say-a-ay

            E
And if the alkaloids illicited

    C#m
The origins of my mind

               G#m
Then why's the jackelope approaching

         A
Winking both its beady eyes

       F#m
Oh ye wizards of ineptitude

            A
You've conspired for my end

        E                   D
As the flames of hell come rollling

        A
On the Santa Ana wind

     F#m
Wi-i-ind

          F#m
When the devil plays his fiddle

           A
I'm gonna meet you in the middle

  E    D  A
Freind

          E
I road a steamboat through the jungle

        C#m
With a fever and a rod

        G#m
Cursing all that dared to live

        A
Cursing me and thee and God

         F#m
And the arrows of the natives

      A
Lept forth and skewered me

          E              D
Don't we come here in a wonder

          A
Don't we leave in mystery

    F#m    F#m
Mystery

         E
When we rode into the salt lake

        C#m
It was dead as hope itself

        G#m
And we beached the damned craft

         A
Seeking death to no avail

                 F#m
There will be no hell to pay

     A
Nah hell has come and went

         E               D
There is no one left to kill

          A
There is sand and that is it

F#m
It

          F#m
When the devil plays his fiddle

           A
I'm gonna see it in the middle

  E    D  A
Freind