Tamanho do texto:
FOur instruments have no way of measuring this feeling
Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling
AmIn the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered
But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered
BmCF
CDraconian Gwinter Amunforetold
COne solar Gday, suddenly you're Amold
CYour little enveGlope just makes me Amcold
CMakes destiGnation start to unAmfold
Am
FOur documents are useless, or forged beyond believing
Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening
AmIn the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming
Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning
BmDesCtiFnation, destination (4x)
CIt's not a reGligion, it's just a techAmnique
CIt's just a Gway of making you sAmpeak
CDistance and sGpeed have left us too wAmeak
CAnd destiGnation looks kind of Ambleak
GAm
Am
FOur elements are burned out, our beasts have been mistreated
I tell you it's the only way we'll get this road completed
AmIn the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers
Just one caress, you're powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers
BmDesCtiFnation, destination (4x)
C
GAm
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