Tonalité : B minor
Verse 1
Am
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
Dm
Am
Through the forests of the night
Everett's was the hand and eye
E
Could frame thy fearful sin I try
Everett's
Am
Could cage it in a line of thought,
line of verse
Dm
Am
Everett knew what words
were worth
Everett's words were diamond
words
Whenever you heard them,
E
something stirred inside of you
Em
Am
Cause that's what poets do
Oh
Asus4
Am
Everett, he never had a
Dm
Am
square meal in thirty years
But men don't live by bread alone
You could find him anytime
E
Em
Slouched upon his high chair
E
Drinking scotch
Em
Am
And staring at his crotch
Dm
E
He slept on sofas, slept on floors
Dm
E
Some nights he slept outdoors
Dm
E
Napkin bags and envelopes
Dm
Were the places
E
Am
Everett wrote his masterworks
Dm
E
And all of us young
Am
Turks
Gathered up the scraps
That
Everett tossed into our laps
That's how
Everett won his fame
We print them under
E
Everett's name
Em
Every year or two
Am
Cause that's what poets do
Dm
E
Who was the man behind the mask?
Dm
E
None of us ever dared to ask
Dm
Poetry was
E
Am
Everett's shield an d sword
Dm
E
Despair could be its only reward
Dm
E
When despair was polished hard
Dm
E
Am
Until it showed like a precious stone
Dm
E
Am
For all the pain to sparkle through
Dm
E
Am
Cause that's what poets do
And all of us at the
Maple
Leaf
Dm
Am
Knew that he would come to grief
Some folks live so close to death
That you can swear you smell
E
Em
it on their breath
Am
Yes, poets dream, poets drink
Poets live life on the brink
Dm
Poets smoke, poets die
Am
And if you ever ask them why
E
Em
They'll tell you they
Am
don't have a clue
E
They'll tell you that's
Em
Am
just what poets do
So
Everett's potty turned to ash
Dm
Am
We all had a muddy bash
People came from near and far
To toast the
Bard at the
Bard's
E
Bar
We knew he would have
Am
done the same for us
And
Everett, wherever you are
Leaning on some heavenly bar
Sloshed upon some sacred stool
Where
God serves his holy fools
E
Am
Even while you damn him to his face
Oh,
E
Em
Am
Aberyth, I know you've got his grace
Dm
E
And as I listened at your wake
Dm
E
I saw how only you could make
Dm
E
Triumph out of tragedy
Dm
E
Am
Tragedy into a divine comedy
Dm
E
Am
Your words, your words will outlive you
Cause
Dm
E
Am
Everett, that's just what poets do
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