• Violão
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• Gaita
• Guitar Pro

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