Los Campesinos! – Every Defeat A Divorce Three Lions (Guitar)

           A                   Bm7       G
I am not a crutch, although my knees are rife with woodworm

G                       A                   Bm7     G
 And the mealworms I misheard for lunch are rotting in my guts

G                    A                Bm7       G
 With a childhood of fingernails that ripped my throat to shreds

G                        A                 Bm7       G                      G
 A walk that chimes like church bells from all these loose joints in my legs

Em7
These three lions that were sitting on my chest

            D/F#
Are clawing hard into my skin as I am gasping for my breath

            G
And as they each play noughts and crosses on the scratches they have left

          D/F#
I have to screw up both my eyes as it goes into sudden death

     Em7
They whisper, "Really all these noughts are circles holed, bereft

              D/F#
And all these crosses, crucifixes spreading guilt and sense of dread"

          G
And as we stumbled homeward up the hill to where you used to live

                    D/F#
The cold makes ice upon our cheeks from all the tears that we have shed

Em7
These things rattle 'round my head

      Em7
If he hasn't blown the whistle then it isn't quite the end

G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce

                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess

G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce

                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess

            Em7                    D/F#
And I don't really know now what I thought I knew then

        G                             D/F#
You can lead a horse to water, but it won't drown itself

                A            Bm7         G
This one family photograph always floats to the top

                A                      Bm7    G
Like a beaming, bloated corpse, though having been made up

                A              Bm7  G
My memories are sepia, but the photograph is not

                A                     Bm7    G
An historian is fucking with them, as deadly as garrotte

               Em7
Where they're standing in the kitchen with his arms around her waist

         D/F#
With no idea of what's to come and with a smile across your face

            G
And all the fittings are the same but every other thing has changed

            D/F#
Must forget everything you know as though your mouth and tongue estranged

 Em7
Small comforts found in ABBA Gold and electronic chess

     D/F#
When West Clewes was my Waterloo, my most dramatic test

              G
Now I've been walking down the shortcuts and the alleys in the dark

            D/F#
Because I'm not scared of the shadows, they're no blacker than my heart

Em7
These things rattle 'round my head

      Em7
If he hasn't blown the whistle then it isn't quite the end

G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce

                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess

G                Em7
Every defeat a divorce

                                G                     D
Although I look surprised, it's par for the course, I guess

    G                  D
But how could I ever refuse?

  G                     D
I feel like I lose when I lose

            Em7                  D/F#
And I don't even know now what I thought I knew then

        G                             D/F#
You can lead a horse to water, but it won't drown itself