| A E | B |

B                       E       G#m
. She never came from Miami F-L-A
A            B                   E                 G#m
. She never "found herself" like other girls, they say
A             B                  E          C#m     F#m        B 
. She had the kind of face you'd never even miss, invisible in bliss
    E             C#m         F#m            B
She couldn't understand why nobody felt like this
B                        E                 G#m       
. She walked a mile in a faithless pair of heels
A          B             E                G#m
. Just to imagine how it looks and how it feels
A           B                 E         C#m   F#m         B
. To be the kind of girl that everyone adored high upon a score board
E                   C#m    F#m             B
Smiling through her teeth, wild as thunder underneath

A          E           B               E
High, high in the sky, out of reach of you and I
A              E           B               
Witnessin' the days go by. Don't it make a poor girl cry?
A        E           B                   E
Oh Lord, it's a sin, all this pain we're livin' in
A                  E              B                      E
Don't it make your poor head spin down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  
La la la la

B                         E             G#m
. He never told himself ambition wasn't real
A               B                     E            G#m
. He taught his eyes to think and his brain how to feel
A            B                 E                C#m    
. He got his wires crossed and couldn't raise a smile
     F#m             B
Made sense once in a while 
E                 C#m           F#m                  B
Countin' down the days 'til his clothes came back in style
B                        E                  G#m
. He couldn't see how anythin' was right or wrong
A             B                     E               G#m
. He knew the words and tune but he didn't know the song

A            B                E               C#m
. He spoke a language that he couldn't barely speak
   F#m             B
An out-of-date technique 
    E                  C#m               F#m          B
And though he was just blood and bone he always felt unique

A          E           B               E
High, high in the sky, out of reach of you and I
A              E           B               
Witnessin' the days go by. Don't it make a poor girl cry?
A        E           B                   E
Oh Lord, it's a sin, all this pain we're livin' in
A                  E              B                      E
Don't it make your poor head spin down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  | B     E   |
La la la la   . . . & 4

A        C#m        E      B F#m
Each and every last one in denial
A              C#m            E     B    F#m
Countin' every minute 'til it seems worthwhile
A          C#m             E    B    F#m
Draggin' behind them every last heartache
         A        C#m                E   B     F#m
Singin' "Jesus forgive me" for their own sweet sake
           G#m A                B C
In a fever .   . nothin' better . .
          C      D |E     | E |
When your soul's at stake

    A          E           B               E   
And high, high in the sky, out of reach of you and I
A              E           B               
Witnessing the days go by. Don't it make a poor girl cry?
A       E           B                   E                  
. Lord, it's a sin, all this pain we're livin' in
A                  E              B                      E
Don't it make your poor head spin down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again
A        E  B                      E
La la la la down the road and back again

| A E | B E | A E | B E | A E | B E | A E | B E |



Charted by Dexex

I write chord charts to show how, as a rhythm guitarist, 
I play songs. I don't claim they are the "right" way. They're not 
intended to be taken as tabs which notate exactly how a song was played 
on a recording.