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Tom: Am
Intro: Am C
Am C
This leathers called a seat belt Anne Louise
Am C
Your head out of the window in the cooling summer breeze
F G
And in the air were all the things you claimed we need
F G
They seemed to be worth less than once I did believe
Am C
And I swear to God that I'll avenge your death
Am C
With the best lawyers of auto-politics
F G
And I'll spend whatever money's to be spent
F G
To try and revive your broken body again
Am C
And the penny-pitching funeral was shit
Am C
Your body in a plastic frame that I threw flowers in
F G
And I hope to God that you'll remember me in heaven
F G
God I hope you don't remember that in heaven
F G
God I hope that they'll allow me into heaven
Am C
Look what I've become
Am C
Look what I've become
Am