The woods
The woods

The woods easy guitar chords by The Wave Pictures

N/A
Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

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  • G

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  • Verse 1
    1, 
    2, 
    3, 

    Bliz
    zards 
    coming 
    in, 
    coming 
    in, 

    in 
    their 
    dozens 

    In 
    shifting 
    light 
    Verse 2
    through 

    narrow 
    windows, 

    smeared 
    with 
    the 
    grease 
    of 
    ovens 

    have 
    Verse 3
    unattractive 
    nurses 

    in 
    my 
    dreams 

    Verse 4
    Stacked 
    low 
    like 
    pancakes, 

    busy 
    like 
    ant
    hills 

    Verse 5
    tell 
    you 
    because 
    it's 
    true 

    Verse 6
    Kids 
    jump 
    off 
    bridges 

    lines, 
    Verse 7
    rip the 
    neck
    s off 
    lizards, 

    terrifying 
    buses 
    filled 
    with 

    dead 
    tree 
    trunks, 

    mud 
    spattered 
    grill 
    guards, 

    blackened 
    burnt 
    out 
    ceilings 

    and 
    the 
    sofas 
    with 
    their 
    stuffing 

    spilling 
    out 
    like 
    guts. 

    You 
    go 
    to 
    the woods, 

    you 
    will 
    find 
    me 
    in 
    the 
    crackle 

    of 
    trash 
    can 
    fire, 

    when 
    you 
    come 
    back 
    to 
    me, 

    still 
    shaped 
    by 
    my 
    ear 
    like 
    melody, 

    un
    buttoning 
    your 
    clothes, 

    unbut
    toning 
    my 
    clothes, 

    where 
    you 
    come 
    from, 

    good
    ness 
    only 
    knows. 



    You 
    said 
    you 
    knew 
    me well, 

    but 
    you never 
    come 
    in 
    here 

    Where 
    the fear 
    is 
    bland 
    like 
    English 
    food 

    and 
    warm 
    like 
    English 
    beer 

    Where 
    they 
    queue 
    up 
    to get 

    whipped 
    down 

    Tottenham 
    Court 
    Road 

    And 
    you, 
    you 
    go 
    to 
    the 
    woods 

    You 
    will 
    find 
    me 
    in the 

    wriggling 
    worm

    And 
    you 
    will 
    find 
    me 

    in the 
    crackle 
    of 
    broken 
    leaf 

    In the 
    trembling 
    hummingbird's 
    hives 

    In 
    the ancient 
    dusty 
    attic 

    where 
    you 
    took 
    my 
    world 
    apart 

    Unbut
    toning 
    your 
    clothes 

    Unbut
    toning 
    my 
    clothes 

    Where 
    you 
    come 
    from 

    Good
    ness 
    only 
    knows 




    either 
    lie 
    awake, 
    or 
    I visit 
    this 
    place 

    Where 
    kindness 
    does 

    not 
    have 
    human 
    face 

    And 
    the bleeping 
    monitors, 

    the hospital 
    cor
    ridor

    Amplify 
    the 
    muffled 
    cries 

    of 
    dying 
    innocent

    Rip 
    the 
    gold 
    teeth 
    out 
    of skeletons, 

    pay 
    to 
    paint 
    the 
    town 

    The 
    sea 
    does 
    not 
    remember 

    the 
    name 
    of 
    all 
    its 
    drown 

    Comb 
    the 
    cafes 
    for 
    me, 

    peaceably 
    will 
    be 

    Wait
    ing 
    with 
    my 
    beans, 

    picking 
    at 
    the 
    seam

    Of 
    an 
    un
    ravelable 
    sack, 

    you 
    go 
    to 
    the woods 

    You 
    cannot 
    miss 
    me 
    in 
    the 

    wriggling 
    worm

    The 
    nightingale 
    does 
    not 

    really 
    sing 
    your 
    name 

    Does 
    not 
    deal 
    in 
    romance 

    any 
    more 
    than 
    in 
    shame 

    Soft 
    breasted 
    though 
    you 
    seem 

    Still 
    little like 
    me 

    Still 
    singing 
    for 
    company 

    Unbut
    toning 
    my 
    clothes 

    Un
    buttoning 
    my 
    clothes 

    Where 
    you 
    come 
    from 

    Good
    ness 
    only 
    knows 




    feel 
    like 
    I've 
    been 
    swimming 

    underwater 

    Shak
    ing 
    in 
    the cold 
    like 

    rich 
    man's 
    daughter 

    But 
    it isn't 
    that 
    the 
    morning 

    comes 
    in 
    slowly 

    An
    isn't this 
    feeling 
    of 
    regret, 

    an
    it isn't 
    the fangs, 

    an
    it isn't 
    the 
    birds, 

    an
    it isn't 
    the 
    scores, 

    and 
    it isn't 
    the 
    plugs, 

    and 
    it isn't 
    the 
    piano 

    playing 
    in 
    my 
    head, 

    and 
    it isn't 
    the 
    soft 
    feeling 
    of 
    your 
    bed, 

    And 
    it 
    is
    n't 
    that 
    your 
    man 

    won't 
    come 
    round 
    here 
    anymore 

    An
    it isn't 
    that 
    woke 
    up 
    on 
    the 

    floor 



    The 
    earth 
    is alive, 

    tie 
    cotton 
    to 
    the 
    branches 

    Francis 
    wakes 
    me 
    up 

    from 
    all 
    these moonlit 
    spiders 

    Moon
    lit 
    mosquitoes, 
    radiating 
    agony 

    And 
    you, 
    you 
    come 
    back 
    to me 

    Still 
    shaped 
    by 
    my 
    ear 
    like 
    melody 

    Unbut
    toning 
    your 
    clothes 

    Un
    buttoning 
    my 
    clothes 

    Where 
    you 
    come 
    from, 
    good
    ness 
    only 
    knows 







    You 

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