Make Total Destroy

G D*
G D Em D C   Cm   x2

[Verse 1]
G               D                
    I'm growing old in rooms full
    Em               C
 of kids with unruly haircuts,
G   D                     C      C
    taking what comfort we can
G          D               Em   
    in the fact that every 
             C              G   D
empire's days are numbered...man.
   C   C

G               D     Em        
    But I don't think that I can
                C
 count that high.
  G                         D     
I should have paid better 
               C          C
attention in school or something,
          G                
because I feel like there's 
           D                       
something that I don't know and if 
 Em                  C
I could just jam it into my skull,
G           D                 C 
    I could stand to live 
    C
somehow.     But I don't know.

[Interlude]
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G D Em D C   Cm   x2

[Verse 2]
G           D             Em    
    And the fact is I'm 2 point 
          C
7 decades in
G   D               C           C
     to a growing ambivalence.
G           D                 Em
    I could count on no hands 
                 C
how many fucks I'm giving.
           G                     
Or is it a million? Are "god" and 
  D                        C      
"void" equivalent? So are we 
            C
making total destroy, or just making
 a living?
G         D         Em          
    And I know that Rome wasn't 
           C
burnt in a day,
G          D                     
    but it couldn't have been 
          C      C
more than a week.
G         D             Em      
    And I know that the children
           C
 of barbarians
G              D                 
    become the new tax collectors
    C         C
 and priests.   So I don't know.

[Interlude]
G D Em D C   Cm   x2

[Bridge]
Em                       C       
    I suppose we've been rolling 
                    G
since the world was round, and time 
makes dust of what we
D
  can't tear down.
Em                     C         
    And I suppose dead bodies 
                G                
make soil of the ground. But what 
               D
about what we do now?

[Verse 3]
G*              D*               
    I'm growing old in rooms full
    Em*               C*
 of kids with unruly haircuts,
G   D                     C      C
    taking what comfort we can
G          D         Em         
    in the fact that every 
    C
empire's days are numbered, man.
G               D                
    But I don't think I can count
       C     C   G*
 that high.