To hear a song l[G]ike that, To have it spoon [G]your sad little heart
[G]It didn't give me a better outlook on life but it to[G]ld me: "I've been there too, and I turned it to art"
And that made a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [Em]me
That made [C]all the [D]difference to [G]me
[G]And I forgot about songs, I fo[G]rgot about what they are to me
[G]I forgot how they hold me, Ho[G]w they sooth me and carry me
[C] I forgot about violins, I forgot how they [G]see me
[C] Try me and taunt me, And how they finally [Em]breathe me
[C] I forgot about chord changes Where the base tone stays i[G]ntact
[C] I forgot about drums and Voices with a tendency to c[Em]rack
They make a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [Em]me
They make a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [G]me
There was this S[C]eptember When all broke [Em]through
Turned out all my [D]truths had worn thin, I [Em]dangled by a t[D]hread from with[C]in
But I heard a viol[Em]in[D]
"I'll hold you my ch[C]ild", The song said, and it [Em]did
It stroke my f[D]orehead with pale hands and S[Em]lowly carried [D]me to the br[C]idge
And as the chorus ar[Em]rived I let g[D]o - oh
[G]And you're so young, You're so young and you come up to me
And you t[G]ell me it helped you through something bad, You say and you hang your head
But this song it helped you through[C]
[C] I get home and I kick my books, fk you[G] knowledge
[C] I was never on your team, never one of your [Em]fighters
I was born a romantic for a r[D]eason
Not to be loved, To be a songw[G]riter
[G]It didn't give me a better outlook on life but it to[G]ld me: "I've been there too, and I turned it to art"
And that made a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [Em]me
That made [C]all the [D]difference to [G]me
[G]And I forgot about songs, I fo[G]rgot about what they are to me
[G]I forgot how they hold me, Ho[G]w they sooth me and carry me
[C] I forgot about violins, I forgot how they [G]see me
[C] Try me and taunt me, And how they finally [Em]breathe me
[C] I forgot about chord changes Where the base tone stays i[G]ntact
[C] I forgot about drums and Voices with a tendency to c[Em]rack
They make a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [Em]me
They make a[C]ll the d[D]ifference to [G]me
There was this S[C]eptember When all broke [Em]through
Turned out all my [D]truths had worn thin, I [Em]dangled by a t[D]hread from with[C]in
But I heard a viol[Em]in[D]
"I'll hold you my ch[C]ild", The song said, and it [Em]did
It stroke my f[D]orehead with pale hands and S[Em]lowly carried [D]me to the br[C]idge
And as the chorus ar[Em]rived I let g[D]o - oh
[G]And you're so young, You're so young and you come up to me
And you t[G]ell me it helped you through something bad, You say and you hang your head
But this song it helped you through[C]
[C] I get home and I kick my books, fk you[G] knowledge
[C] I was never on your team, never one of your [Em]fighters
I was born a romantic for a r[D]eason
Not to be loved, To be a songw[G]riter
