The door opens onto the highway
which lay there missin the moon
like a ribbon without a present
or a string without a balloon
This morning offers no schedule
coffee doesn’t mind getting cold
a bag full of nothing thinks lonely is something
and that nothing… is getting old
* So this is the future
where the past wears a digital mask
and all my answers don’t seem that important anymore
and my questions don’t need to be asked
The war isn’t fought in the papers
and blood doesn’t run down the wires
and the piles of limbs they don’t get to him
because our president is a liar
* So this is the future
where the past wear’s a digital mask
and all my answers don’t seem that important anymore
and my questions don’t need to be asked
Chords
Verse
D7 C7 G7
D7 C7 G7
D7 C7 G7
C7 A7
(maybe)
Chorus
G F C
G F C
G F C
F A
Recording Notes
Probably 2005. In Venice Beach, California. Apartment on Pacific across from the Post Office.
This might have been recorded on a Sony Mini-Disc with a Sony Stereo Mic. I don’t know what guitar I was playing in those days… Acoustic something.
