Kevin Devine – Another Bag Of Bones (Guitar)

Eb-tuning

       F
It's a brush fire spreading, feeding as it moves

       Am                            Em
It's a disappeared glacier; it's the airborne flu

          F
It's your disbelieving eyes logging concrete miles

          Am                          Em
It's your yawning conscience and your lawyer's smile

        F
It's an occupied country foaming at the mouth

   Am              Em
No smoking gun, no mushroom cloud

       F
It's a military mother with a boy in hell

           Am                         Em
And it's a flag-draped casket down an oil well

        F
It's an Argentine school-girl gagged and bound

       Am                   Em
It's a torture camp; it's a long way down

         F
It's the constant bracing shock of now

             Am                      Em
And it's the whole damn world turned inside out, alright

       F
It's a march to extinction with your god in step

         Am                           Em
It's his name in your mouth; it's his cross on your neck

       F
It's a farm boy sprinting over desert dirt

         Am                          Em
And he's panting the 'Our Father' in staccato spurts

               F
Now that's his automatic rifle and it tells no lies

         Am                             Em
It's his truth in your stomach, it's no alibi

        F
But the trouble lies on the other side

        Am                           Em
With an equal truth prepping for his holy night

            F
He sees the crescent and the star blink in the virgin sky

              Am                              Em
And hears the call of milk and honey from the afterlife

          F
And as he eases to the checkpoint, he is calm and sure

         Am                      Em
It's collateral damage; it's the cost of war

      F
It's another bag of bones for the Gods to sort

           Am                          Em
It's just another bag of bones for the Gods to sort

            F
Well it's a species disappearing, all the birds fly south

     Am                     Em
In a January heatwave, in a pulsing crowd

        F
It's an African Militia, kids with sub-machines

       Am                       Em
It's a conflict diamond on your bride-to-be

         F
It's the dispossessed lining up at every gate

         Am                        Em
It's the facts worth facing, faced way too late

         F
It's the mission of modernity, go get what's yours

            Am                     Em
Til there's nothing leftover to go get no more

         F
And it's not what we're owed, but it's what we've earned

         Am                          Em
And it's closer than we realise, and it's time now to

F      Am
burn

Em                      F     Am
And oh it's time now to burn

Em                      F     Am
And oh it's time now to burn

Em                      F              Am Em
And oh it's time now to burn, to burn