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.