Los Campesinos! – 0898 Heartache (Ukulele)

E                      (Esus4) B                    (G#m)
Cavalcade through antemortem, terminal suburban boredom

A                          C#m            B
Summon second magpie for a small dopamine hit

    E                                     B
You wait and watch your own self die, not final act but in real time

    C#m                                A           B
You are the sight and seeing, you're a reflection of it

A                       C#m
Grind my bones into the finest snow

           E                     B
Lay me and melt me in a crack of sun

  A                           C#m
Restored to earth, afforded a second birth

           E                         B
Dine on my rotten fruit for years to come

E                                 B
Line engaged cradle to grave, you occupy liminal space

  A                      C#m              B
A recipe for disaster, a table laid for two

    E                               B
I'm mouth agape arms open wide, not to receive but crucified

    A                                C#m
The wind whistled a tune I stole and sang for you

A                       C#m
Grind my bones into the finest snow

           E                     B
Lay me and melt me in a crack of sun

  A                           C#m
Restored to earth, afforded a second birth

           E                         B
Dine on my rotten fruit for years to come

E                               B                          A
You're a million bucks and I am avarice, you know how I hunger for it

                  C#m           B
I couldn't draw a dime in fifty states

E                         B
Nonarrival to your party, I did Five Halves for my birthday

A                               C#m
Bitter, lager, Guinness, cider, lemonade to chase

A                       C#m
Grind my bones into the finest snow

           E                     B
Lay me and melt me in a crack of sun

  A                           C#m
Restored to earth, afforded a second birth

           E                                   B
Dine on my rotten fruit for years and years to come

   A           E            C#m         B
No talk of the shape of the ceremonial counties

A                             C#m  B
There's no Runners Up Hall Of Fame

  A                                     C#m            B
I plucked a white-hot shooting star, to wish upon when times are hard

   C#m                   B    (G#m)
An asterisk against your name

A
0898 HEARTACHE

       E
You're calling me a mistake

     C#m                       B     (G#m)
Just call me if you want a bad time

     A
Dial 0898 HEARTACHE

        E
If your calling me's a mistake

     C#m                                 B
Then tell me why we're both still on the line?