Death of a Martian

Tom: Cm

Cm
Bear paws and rascal power
Bb
Watching us in your garage 
Cm
Big girl you ate the neighbor 
D#          A#
The nova is over 
Cm
Wake up and play 
Bb
Balleradio 
Cm
Make room for Clara's bare feet
D#            A# 
The love of a Martian 

Pré-Refrão:

G
Tick tock and waiting for the meteor
G 
This clock is opening another door 

Refrão:

Cm
Lots of love just keep it comin' 
Bb
Making something out of nothin' 
G#            G
These are the best that I 
Cm
I don't know how to say 
Bb
Losin' what I love today 
G#            G
These are the best that I 
Cm
Lots of love just keep it comin' 
Bb
Making something out of nothin' 
G#            G
These are the best that I 
Cm
I don't know what to say 
Bb
Look at what I lost today 
G#                 G
And these are the things that I 



Blood flowers in the kitchen 
Signing off and winding down 
This Martian ends her mission 
The nova is over 
She caught the ball 
By the mission bell 
Chase lizards bark at donkeys 
The love of a Martian 

Pré-Refrão: (G)

Let's bow our heads 
And let the trumpets blow 
Our girl is gone 
God bless her little soul 

(Refrão)

Cm G# D# A#

She's got a sword in case 
Though this is not her lord in case 
The one who can't afford to face her image is restored to grace. 
Disappeared, 
No trace. 
Musky tears. 
Suitcase. 
The down turn brave little burncub 
Bearcareless turnip snare rampages 
Pitch color pages... 
Down and out but not in Vegas, 
Disembarks and disengages. 
No loft. 
Sweet pink canary cages plummet 
Pop dewskin fortitude for the sniffing black noses 
That snort and allude to dangling trinkets 
That mimic the dirt cough go drink its. 
It's for you. 
Blue battered naval town slip kisses 
Delivered by duck muscles and bottlenosed grifters 
Arrive in time to catch the late show. 
It's a beehive barrel race. 
A shehive stare and chase wasted feature 
Who tried and failed to reach her. 
Embossed beneath a box in the closet 
That's lost. 
The kind that you find when you mind your own mysteries. 
Shiv sister to the quickness before it blisters 
Into newmorning milk blanket. 
Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch 
Bunny whose bouquet set a course for bloom without decay. 
Get your broom and sweep the echoes of yesternights fallen freckles...away...