Db Bbm Db Gb Ebm Eb Ab

[Verse 1]
Ab        Db
perennial daisies are blooming
           Bbm          Db
millennial days seem to screw me
F                Gb
all over, it’s a wreck it’s not hell but it’s heck
                   Ebm
i don’t know why i feel this bad
   Eb              Ab
or why it’s coming back
                  Db
I’m not immune to winter or depression
                    Bbm           Db
you’d think I would interpret the lesson
    F                 Gb
I’d bulldoze down the door and get myself outside
                  Ebm
i found a helpful number,
        Eb            Ab
calling them I didn’t try, i wonder why

[Chorus]
Gb
I’m good for hours, fine for days, but each year it'll sing that
     Ab
it’s waiting in the wings
Gb      N.C
I won’t die of a dark and lightless lifestyle
Gb      N.C
anyway, i’ve got a plan, and
Db       Eb
how many roses can I hold in a hand,
      Ab
can I grow with a seasonal therapy lamp?

[Instrumental]
Db Bbm Db Gb Ebm Eb Ab

[Verse 2]
Ab              Db
I love the advertisements for these
               Bbm         Db
I set out on assignment to see
     F                    Gb
what treatment’s best for me and all I want to be
                 Ebm
is stock photography
    Eb                 Ab
sad lamps and blonde ladies
                   Db
she’s lit up lovingly
               F   Bbm
i hope it gets her better again
                     Gb
i hope she calls her friends and the scene is like the end
   Ebm           Eb
of ads for happy meds in which
                        Ab
she’s dancing and she's better in the head

[Chorus]
Gb
I’m good for hours, fine for days, but each year it'll sing that
     Ab
it’s waiting in the wings
Gb      N.C
I won’t die of a dark and lightless lifestyle
Gb      N.C
anyway, i’ve got a plan, and
Db       Eb
how many roses can I hold in a hand,
      Ab
can I grow with a seasonal therapy lamp?

[Instrumental]
Db Bbm Gb Ab Db F Bbm Gbm Ab

[Verse 3]
Ab                 Db
Chrysanthemums pop out of my head,
            Bbm
a dandelion patch in my bed, I
      F                Gb
think I’ve been dead a week or maybe two, or fifty three
         Ebm        Eb
and so I died a bit again
                        Ab
and I think felt better then
                        Db
until the sky got dyed again.
                  Bbm
it’s baby blue, cerulean.
  F                  Gb
i don't need help, I say i’ve cured myself today
     Ebm          Eb
just wait another year
                      Ab
I’ll probably be back here. Just wait another

[Chorus]
Gb
I’m good for hours, fine for days, but each year it'll sing that
     Ab
it’s waiting in the wings
Gb      N.C
I won’t die of a dark and lightless lifestyle
Gb      N.C
anyway, i’ve got a plan, and
Db        Eb
how many roses can I hold in a hand,
      Ab
can I grow with a seasonal therapy lamp?