Taylor Swift — The Tortured Poets Department

Текст песни с аккордами

    	    	Вступление

[Intro]
D

[Verse 1]
C
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
F
 Straight from the tourtured poets department
C
 I think some things I never say
F
 Like, "Who uses typerwriters anyway?"
Am                           G
 But you're in self-sabotage mode
                             C
 Throwing spikes down on the road
                       F
 But I've seen this episode and still love the show
 Am         C
 Who else decodes you?


[Chords]
C                          F
 And who's gonna hold you like me?
C                             F
 And who's gonna know you if not me?

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                         C
 "You're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're modern idiots."
                           F
 And who's gonna hold you like me?
   C
 Nobody
            F
 No-fucking-body
   F
 Nobody


[Verse 2]
C
 You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
F
 We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
C
 I scratch your head, you fall asleep
F
 Like a tattooed golden retriever
Am                     G                             C
 But you awakened with dread, pounding nails in your head
                       F
 But I've read this one where you come undone
   Am           C
 I chose this cyclone with you


[Chorus]
C                          F
 And who's gonna hold you like me? (Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?)
C                             F
 And who's gonna know you if not me? (Who's gonna know you?)

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                         C
 "You're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're modern idiots."
                           F
 And who's gonna hold you like me?
C   F   C   F


[Bridge]
C
 Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
F
 But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
C
 And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen
F
 Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
C               F
 'Cause we're crazy
            C                    F
 So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
    Am                             G
 At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger, and
               C              F
 Put it on the one people put wedding rings on
                Am                   G
 And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding


[Alt Chorus]
C                           F
 And who's gonna hold you? ...Me
C                           F
 And who's gonna know you? ...Me
 Dm                          C
 And you're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're two idiots.
                 G
 And who's gonna hold you?
C   F   C   F

[Outro]
Am             G
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
 C                           F
 Straight from the tourtured poets department
Am          G            C   F
 Who else decodes you?
C   F   C   F		
    

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