A Bowl Collecting Blood
Emmy The GreatVersions1TuningE B G D A E
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Home is where I thought I was,
I must have been asleep,
I saw you picking fists of red and green,
And some of them you keep,
And some you throw away,
You always were a waste,
You take more than you need.
Now I'm,
Afraid to close my eyes,
The air is full of ice,
Reminds me of the winter in your smile.
You looked for what was his,
Took what he would give,
Played 'til you were tired,
And when you'd had enough,
You threw him out in the cold like a hair coming off of a brush,
When you were finished you know he was nobody else's to love,
And I remember he told me every time you touched,
Your skin was like a bowl collecting blood.
I know he's gone,
I know he went away,
I know he couldn't take,
The sight of all those bodies in your wake.
You're pretty like a snake,
You're pretty like the ground,
'cause once you pull them in,
You know they're never coming out,
So shake another hip,
And then you take another scalp.
And they go out in the cold like a hair coming off of a brush,
When you were finished you know he was nobody else's to love,
And I remember he told me every time you touched,
Your skin was like a bowl collecting blood.
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Plain-text tab for A Bowl Collecting Blood by Emmy The Great
{tuning: Standard (EADGBE)}
[D]Home is where I thought I [Bm]was,
I must have been [G]asleep,
I saw you picking [A]fists of red and [D]green,
And some of them you [Bm]keep,
And some you throw [G]away,
You always were a [G]waste,
You take more than you [A]need.
Now [D]I'm,
Afraid to close my [Bm]eyes,
The air is full of [G]ice,
Reminds me of the [A]winter in your [D]smile.
You looked for what was [Bm]his,
Took what he would [G]give,
Played 'til you were t[G]ired,
And when you'd had [A]enough,
You threw him [G]out in the cold like a hair coming off of a [A]brush,
When you were [D]finished you know he was nobody else's to [Bm]love,
And I [G]remember he told me every time you [A]touched,
Your skin was like a bowl collecting blood.
I know he's [D]gone,
I know he went [Bm]away,
I know he couldn't [G]take,
The sight of all those [A]bodies in your [D]wake.
You're pretty like a [Bm]snake,
You're pretty like the [G]ground,
'cause once you pull them in,
You know they're never coming [A]out,
So shake another hip,
And then you take another [D]scalp.
And they go [G]out in the cold like a hair coming off of a [A]brush,
When you were [D]finished you know he was nobody else's to [Bm]love,
And I [G]remember he told me every time you [A]touched,
Your skin was like a bowl collecting [D]blood.