The Hand Tabulatur von Annabelle Dinda

Am                            G
Every time a guy writes a song
                    Fmaj7
He’s a cowboy, a sailor
                                  G
Playing with the world in his palm
                       Am
Like the first pioneer
                             G
Every time he opens his mouth
                      Fmaj7
It’s a loud movie trailer
                              G
Clipping every image and sound
                            Am
He thinks proves he was here
 
[Chorus]
                                 G
A hand, a spike, a physical fight
                            Fmaj7
A flash of light and curtain
                              G
A toll, a tithe, a passage of time
                          Am
A height, a dive, a burden
                           G
A girl, a night, a typical type
                    Fmaj7
A Siren in the water
                                G
A scroll, a nod, a message from God
                    Am
A son, a Holy Father
[Verse 2]
Am                            G
Every time a guy writes a song
                    Fmaj7
He’s a sailor, a cowboy
                                 G
Holding out the world in him palm
                       Am
Like he made it himself
                          G
Every time I open my mouth
                          Fmaj7
I think “wow, what a loud noise!”
 
Still on the soapbox
     G                         Am
Just hoping I seem underwhelmed
 
[Chorus]
 
                                G
The hand, the pen, the writing again
                          Fmaj7
The wind around the willow
                                  G
The felt, the ice, the passage of time
                           Am
The melting down the window
                                   G
The now, the then, the thinking of when
                       Fmaj7
The bottle in the ocean
                                       
The strike, the pause, the message from
 G
 God
                        Am
Forbid she shows emotion
 
[Bridge]
Am
This isn’t rage, it’s worth a mention
G
This is a fake internal tension
Fmaj7
Sometimes I spread out one opinion
    G
And stand on it’s back to gauge 
attention
Am
This isn’t rage, it’s too specific
G
I like to hate symbolic limits
Fmaj7
This is no statement, I’m complicit
G
This is a dream, God put me in it
 
[Chorus]
Am                            G
A hand, the spike, a physical fight
                          Fmaj7
The wind around the willow
                                G
The toll, a tithe, a passage of time
                           Am
The melting down the window
                                   G
The now, the then, the thinking of when
                      Fmaj7
The Siren in the water
                                       
The strike, the pause, the message from
 G
 God
                               Am
Does that make me his daughter?
 
[Outro]
                             G
A hand, a shove, a valley, a jump
                      Fmaj7
A score under the wire
                                G
Just sweep me up, just sweep me up'
                            Am
And take me somewhere higher
                                G
Just sweep me up, just sweep me up
                            Fmaj7
And take me somewhere higher
                                G
Just sweep me up, just sweep me up
                         Am
And take me somewhere higher