Presumably Dead Arm

G
just to start this off,
                           C
this isn’t the start of anything,
                       D
just a song that i can sing to you
      G
we’re standing in a graveyard,

a presumably dead arm
                   C
popped through the grass,
        D
and who doesn’t talk about that

G
honey, you are nothing to me

but alcohol and dopamine
    Am
i’m dying on the sofa
      D
and i barely know the time

G
and like an old man, say i reckon,

i love you for a millisecond,
    Am
but i don’t wear a watch or rolex
       C                
and my brain’s a toddler 
 Am            D
rollerskating down a hill,

  D
i took a spill
               G
and ran into a tree,
             A
and suffered minor injuries

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C
honey, you are nothing to me,
  D                                
i don’t call people anything that’s
 G
 thought to be so sweet

but i’m just being bitchy,
                                  C
cause every everyone skipped over me
                     D
on our twilight hour meet and greet,
G
one coffee table theater scene,
one disregard the soaring chick back
 Am
 there in corner three,
           C                D
i’d rather let the poor kid sleep

          G
but he’s tripping balls, he’s 
tripping testes,

LSD, post- wisdom teeth,
   C                            
he got lost in the shower and he 
 D
barely knows the hour

  G
I wanna know your passwords

Without changing them in preferences
    C                            
and all the childhood streets and 
          D
deceased pets that they're 
referencing

    Am
and in the box i’ll type,
     D
i’ll know all the numbers to try,
  G                             
i wanna know the lyrics that you 
 A
think of when you’re high

      C                            
cause i’m in love with strangers 
       D
who I’ve never even seen
             Bm                 
in love with weird cut bangs and 
                  Em
sweaters swaying kind of awkwardly
    Am                        
and i’m in love with fresh air 
              D
friends from overheated houses
       Bm                        
till I uber up a giant park and dump
Em
 my body in my dorm bed

Am                            D
honey you are nothing to me i don’t 
call people anything
       B                Em
that’s thought to be so sweet
    C                   D      
the speech is coming back with a 
               G
vengeance it seems.

and all these pretend spouses are a 
happy storybook,
        C                Am      
that’ll turn to stark nonfiction in 
D
the time it took
          G
for me to notice that I’m old, which
 means I’ll be 30 and happy
       C              Am    
likely married to personified 
      D
business casual khakis

    Am                          D
and i’ll forget about it when i wake
 up late and stupid
  Bm                            Em
i tried to tell the uber driver till
 he tried to hit it
  C                                
i tried to tell myself because i’ve
 D
 come this far along
  Bm                         
carrying my zombie arm to the 
 Em
fifteenth grade prom

C                              D
honey you are nothing to me i don’t 
call people anything
      B                Em
thats thought to be so sweet
    C                 D        
the speech is coming back with a 
                     G    A
vengeance it seems
    C                 D        
the speech is coming back with a 
                     G    C
vengeance it seems