The Wonder Years – Cigarettes And Saints (Guitar)

        C                  Am
Twice a week I pass by the church that held your funeral

        G                   F                 C
and the pastor’s words come pouring down like rain.

       C                            Am      
How he called you a sinner but said now you walk with Jesus,

       G                    F                 C
so the drugs that took your life aren’t gonna cause you any pain.

G                F              C
I don’t think he even knew your name.

G            F              C       G            F
I refused to kneel or pray. I won’t remember you that way

                C               G                F
but I lit you a candle in every cathedral across Europe.

  G                    F               C
I hope you know you’re still my patron saint.

  C        Am                  G          F
I tried to forgive but I can’t forget the cigar in his fist.

  G                   F               C
I know that they were heartsick but I need someone to blame

                    G         F               C
and I know how they blame me. I know what you’d say.

      G              F                    C          G        F
You’d tell me it was your fault. I should put all my arrows away.

                       C         G  
I’m sure there ain’t a heaven,

                    Am              G           F
but that don’t mean I don’t like to picture you there.

  G                  F              C
I bet you’re bumming cigarettes off saints.

                C              G
I’m sure you’re still singing

                         Am           G          F
but I’ll bet that you’re still just a bit out of key.

          G                     F                 C
With that crooked smile pushing words across your teeth.

         Am            G
You were heat lightning.

           C          G            F
You were a storm that never rolled in.

             Am                   G                C                F
You were the northern lights in a southern town, a caustic fleeting thing.

               Am               G
I’ll bury your memories in the garden;

                C             G              F
I’ll watch them grow with the flowers in the spring.

                   C
I’ll keep you with me.

C
These wolves in their suits and ties

F
saying “kid you can trust me.”

C
Charming southern drawl, sunken eyes.

F
Buying good will in hotel lobbies.

C                                                 F
They got fistfuls of pills to make sure you don’t hurt no more.

C
Got their fangs in our veins.

                       F
Got their voice in our heads.

                      F
Got our arms in their grips.

C                                 F
This god damn machine; hungry and heartless.

                                    C
My whole generation got lost in the margin.

                                      F
We put our faith in you. You turned a profit.

                                   C          F
Now we’re drowning here under your waves.

                         C         F
Drowning held under your waves.

C                                            F
You can’t have my friends. You can’t have my brothers.

                                             C
You can’t have my friends. You can’t have my brothers.

                                             F
You can’t have my friends. You can’t have my brothers.

                                          C
You can’t have me. No, you can’t have me.