Bm F# A E
After all these implements and text designed by intellects
D E A
So vexed to find evidently there's just so much that hides
Bm F# A E
And though the saints of us divine in ancient feeding lines
D E A
Their sentiment is just as hard to pluck from the vine
G E
I'm trying hard not to pretend
G E F#
Allow myself no mock defense
Bm
Step into the night
F# A E
Since I don't have the time nor mind to figure out
D E A
The nursery rhymes that helped us out and make a sense of our lives
Bm F# A E
The cruel uneventful state of apathy releases me
D E A
I value them but I won't cry every time one's wiped out
G E
I'll trying hard not to give in
G E F#
Battened down to fair the wind
G E
Rid my head of this pretense
G E F#
Allow myself no mock defense
Bm F# D E F# F#
Step into the night..
D A Em G A
D A Em G A
D A Em
Mercy's eyes are blue
G A D A Em
When she places them in front of you
G A D A Em
Nothing holds a roman candle to
G A G D G D G D
The solemn warmth you feel inside
C
There's no measuring of it
A F#
As nothing else is love...
Bm F# A E D E A
Bm F# A E D E A
G E
I'll try hard not to give in
G E F#
Battened down to fair the wind
G E
Rid my head of this pretense
G E F#
Allow myself no mock defense
Bm F# D E F# F#
Step into the night...
D A Em G A
D A Em G A
D A Em G A
D A Em G A
D A Em
Mercy's eyes are blue
G A D A Em
When she places them in front of you
G A D A Em
Nothing really holds a candle to
G A D A Em G A
The solemn warmth you feel inside of you
Outro: D A Em G A
The Shins — Saint Simon

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