Nobodys Son

Race Horses

Tom: G
-*-*-*- The Race Horses -*-*-*- 'NOBODY'S SON' -*-*-*- from FURNITURE -*-*-*- year 2012 -*-*-*- 



Very nice song, beautiful lyrics and... only three chords!! 

Here is the sequence: G - Am - C - G . It never changes. 




Verse: 
G                    Am 
Close skies, taking wages, 
          C                G 
from the ways that common go. 
          G                    Am 
Of it's frightening, and it's loneness, 
         C                          G    
and it's out there, searching and stare. 



Chorus: 
(G)           G            
You've got to be ..., to hold it, to love it, to leave it, 
       Am                           C                        G 
Or it won't belong (ahaaaa), to be someone's son, just like him. 



Verse: 

Look out, all those faces, 
That conceal their crudest thoughts. 
It's disgusting how alive them 
Can be trained to rip you apart. 



Chorus: 
You've got to be ..., to hold it, to love it, to leave it, 
Or it won't belong (ahaaaa), to be someone's son, just like him. 

And yes it's creepy, cold, sweet home, sound the clickers, 
And it won't be long (ahaaaa), 'till he's no-one's son. And it's true. 



VERSE (II): 
   G 
I wanted to go, I wanted to fight. 
   Am 
I wanted to get to the top of the white. 
   C                             G 
I did what it could. Now it's through. 

   G                    
I wanted to crawl, I kneeled down to cry. 
   Am   
I picked myself up, take a lot at the sky. 
       C                          G 
I was given the room to see it through. 



Chorus x2: 

You've got to be ..., to hold it, to love it, to leave it, 
Or it won't belong (ahaaaa), to be someone's son, just like him. 
And yes it's creepy, cold, sweet home, sound the clickers, 
And it won't be long (ahaaaa), 'till he's no-one's son. And it's true. 

You've got to be ..., to hold it, to love it, to leave it, 
Or it won't belong (ahaaaa), to be someone's son, just like him. 
And yes it's creepy, cold, sweet home, sound the clickers, 
And it won't be long (ahaaaa), 'till he's no-one's son. And it's true. 

(Last note G) 

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