((VERSE)) [E]Ode to joy, m[F#]y lover boy'[G#m]s speaking in [F#] [E]tongues-And the sky's bleeding g[F#]ray.................[G#m][F#] [E]Now I pull my [F#]bag o' praye[G#m]rs out[B] I h[C#sus]ope to find on[C#]e to save the [Em]day And he judged my love, my lust My taste with the straightest face As I crumple up inside A papier-mache, a shell...