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Gm      F       C       x4

Gm           F     C      Gm                  F     C
I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
Gm          F          C       Gm                 F      C
you held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
Gm        F       C     Gm                           F      C
oh what a contrast you were to the brutes in the halls
Gm              F       C      Gm           F    C
my timid young fingers held a decent animal

A#          F
Over the ramparts you tossed
A#                 F
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
A#          F                G#
tied to a brick sweet as a song
                     D#                         F
the years have been short but the days were long

Gm         F          C          Gm                 F     C
D#ool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
Gm            F         C           Gm                  F     C
we fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
Gm                      F     C    Gm                  F     C
when our kite lines first crossed we tied them into knots
Gm              F   C        Gm                F    C
and to finally fly apart we had to cut them off

A#                       F
Since then it's been a book
               A#
you read in reverse
                   F
so you understand less as the pages turn
A#               F                 G#
or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast
          D#                 F
that even I could be the star

D#     F           G#         A#
I dont look back much as a rule
D#       F               G#         A#
and all this way before murder is cool
D#        F                      A#           D#
but your memory is here and i'd like you to stay
           F
a warm light on a winter's day

Gm       F     C      x6

A#          F
Over the ramparts you tossed
A#                   F
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
A#         F               G#
tied to brick sweet as a song
                      D#                           G#
the years have been short but the days go slowly by 
          D#
to loose kites falling from the sky
G#               D#                    F
drawn to the ground and an end to flight