F#m                                E
They call holidays an option for a reason
               D
I heard you're coming back to life just for the fourth
          F#m                                E
I've Been catching all your ghosts for every season
          D
I pray to God you won't come back here anymore
                      F#m      E      D
Do you pray with him, too?

            F#m
They should deliver all my blessings
   E                                   D
In small brown paper handbags near the porch
             F#m                                  E
I wished I'd known that you were bleeding while I sat
                                 D
And watched you reading with the lord
                 Bm
I read with him, too

                 A
When you look at me
           F#m          E        Bm
I'll Be digesting your legs
                   A
Cause I can hardly see
                   E        D
What's in front of me these days
                     F#m        E      D
And those days, too

F#m
I've got to take what I'm making
And turn it into something
E
I've got to take what I'm making
And turn it into something
D
For you
F#m
I've got to break what I'm making
And turn it into nothing
E
I've got to break what I'm making
And turn it into nothing
D
For you

F#m  E                  D
God, where have you been?