Standard (EADGBE)

( )x8

Verse 1

Down beneath the swoosh of the turbines,

The long grass it blows in ripples,

There’s a beautiful spiral of roads,

That lead the lost up here.

I was watching the birds taking off,

 To swoop down over the city,

They find and take just what they need,

 And turn, turn, turn.

Chorus

 The movers move, the shakers shake,

 The winners write their history,

 But from high on the high hills

 It all looks like nothing.

 The movers move, the shakers shake,

 The winners write their history,

 But from high on the high hills

 It all looks like nothing.

Verse 2

That afternoon on the hustler gate,

 With all the TVs flickering,

While behind the sky was moving,

Liquid crimson gold.

Brothers, sisters, pay no heed

 To the unfaithful messengers,

For theirs is a prison world,

 Of lies, lies, lies.

Chorus

Bridge

The keening wind,

 It blows though me, it blows through me.

My time it must,

 Be almost done, be almost done.

( )x4

Outro

All these things you fear so much

 Depend on angles of vision.

Down in the maze of walls,

You can’t see what’s coming,

 But from high on the high hills

 It all looks like nothing,

 From high on the high hills

( )x4 ( )x4

It all looks like nothing, nothing.