Standard (EADGBE)

Verse 1

I sit on a piano stool and I make up songs for these men who

 come in with dust on their faces and mud on their boots

 From these places that I'll never go.

I sleep in a rented bed with a woman who gives me

 what little I get of the love that we'd like to imagine is left

 Of the love that we never did know

I slip out and scribble a note that reads like a million books

([G/f#])

It's a four cent nickel for my dime store theme, but it sure reads good

Chorus 1

 And If I could make it work in life

 Like it works on paper

 If the love that I describe

 Could be anything but words

 Then I would wipe my eyes I'd dry this ink

 I'd trade my pen in on a pair of wings

 And I would... I would fly

 If I could only make it work in life

Verse2

 And at the end of every night I add up the tips that I count for what might

 not come down to a thing that amounts to a lie

 And the sum of it all I'm afraid

Is less then what I know I need to slip beneath the surface of my forgeries

 Where I buried my hopes where sometimes my dreams

 Still stir me and steal me away.

And I can still hear Dineh Bikeyah call just like we were kids

([G/f#])

I could tell you all about it in a song But Lord I wish...

Chorus2

  ...that I could make it work in life

 Like it works on paper

 If the love that I describe

 Could be anything but words

 Then I would wipe my eyes I'd dry this ink

 I'd trade my pen in on a pair of wings

 And I would... Fly

 If I could only make it work in life

 If I could only make it work... in life.