| G | B | C | G |
Well I came a | long to | find a l | ittle peace of m | ind |
| G | B | C | G |
Negle | ctin’ all m | y duties, steppin’ o | ff that straightened lin | e |
| G | B | Em | A7 |
Now I just s | it by my fro | nt door filled with indo | lence and s | ound |
| G | D | G |
It’s like I’m wa | tchin’ the weeds | grow on my brow | |
| G | B | C | G |
And I had a pure | potenti | al in a | soiled white shi | rt |
| G | B | C | G |
With lov | e enough to ki | ll me, but was uns | ure of its worth | |
| G | B | Em | A7 |
And though the n | ight is | sweetened by some rising | of the | moon |
| G | D | G |
I’ve lived enoug | h to know the ba | ttle’s never thr | ough |
| C | G | D | G |
You pass | something do | wn, no ma | tter where or ho | w |
| C | G | D |
Will there be we | eds or w | ildflowers affix | ed upon your bows |
| C | G | Em | A7 |
And there’s a c | rooked burning c | igarette roll | in’ on your tong | ue |
| G | D | G |
Will there be we | eds or wildflowe | rs when you’re d | one |
| G | B | C | G |
Remember you tra | veled through the d | esert, you tr | aveled to the se | a |
| G | B | C | G |
Lookin’ | out on some hori | zon, asking what | you mean to m | e |
| G | B | Em | A7 |
And we a | ll hang aro | und with a fr | ee or toiled m | ind |
| G | D | G |
While al | l of our | branches entwin | e |
| G | B | C | G |
And as I | watch the b | rick er | ode from day to d | ay |
| G | B | C | G |
The leav | es change their | colors and the l | oft fills with h | ay |
| G | B | Em | A7 |
And as a b | lade of su | nshine cu | ts across my chest | |
| G | D | G |
The bloo | d beneath b | oils with unr | est |
| C | G | D | G |
You pass | something do | wn, no ma | tter where or ho | w |
| C | G | D |
Will there be we | eds or w | ildflowers affix | ed upon your bows |
| C | G | Em | A7 |
And there’s a c | rooked burning c | igarette roll | in’ on your tong | ue |
| G | D | G |
Will there be we | eds or wildflowe | rs when you’re d | one |
| C | G | D | G |
Blown ab | out by the wi | nd, and a wo | rthless little thin | g |
| C | G | D |
But the | world can feel the ch | anges of a | butterfly’s wing |
| C | G | Em | A7 |
And so that | crooked burning c | igarette ro | llin’ on your tongu | e |
| G | D | G |
Will leave its w | eeds before your | flowers yet have s | prung |
| G | D | G |
Will there be we | eds or wildflowe | rs when you’re d | one |