G Bm Am DG Bm Am D [VERSE 1]G Am D G These days my life seems somehow like a tired old clichéAm D G A bad movie scene that just goes on and onAm D G With dialogue like " It's so sad how fast time slips away"Am D G Or "You never really miss them until they're gone"Am D G Funny how those old clichés come trueAm C D I never thought I'd miss him, but I do [CHORUS]G Am G Am D My father died in summer, and all he left behindG Am G Bm Am D Were little scraps of paper, little scraps of rhymeAm D G I read them and felt something inside me breakBm Am D And angrily cried out "Too late, too late!"G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better?G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better?[VERSE 2]G Am D G He and I were always strangers, searching for someoneAm D G I was looking for a hero, and he a friendAm D G So while I searched for my father, he was looking for his sonAm D G And strangers we remained until the endAm D G But the man who wrote his heart into these rhymesAm C D I know that he could have been a good friend of mine [CHORUS]G Am G Am D My father died in summer, and all he left behindG Am G Bm Am D Were little scraps of paper, little scraps of rhymeAm D G I read them and felt something inside me breakBm Am D And angrily cried out "Too late, too late!"G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better?G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better? [VERSE 3]G Am D G So I sit here where he lived and died as the ghosts around me weaveAm D G And the evening shadows lengthen on the wallAm D G And in this dark and empty room it's easy to believeAm D G That he never, really lived at allAm D G But the little scraps of paper in my handAm C D Prove he lived to me — a father and a man [CHORUS]G Am G Am D My father died in summer, and all he left behindG Am G Bm Am D Were little scraps of paper, little scraps of rhymeAm D G I read them and felt something inside me breakBm Am D And angrily cried out "Too late, too late!"G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better?G Bm Am D Surely there must be something better?
Scraps Of Paper
Eric Bogle
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