Death of a martian Teclado

	  Verse: 
 
Cm 
Bear paws and rascal power 
Bb 
Watching us in your garage  
Cm 
Big girl you ate the neighbor  
D#          A# 
The nova is over  
Cm 
Wake up and play  
Bb 
Balleradio  
Cm 
Make room for Clara's bare feet 
D#            A#  
The love of a Martian  
 
Pre Chorus: 
 
G 
Tick tock and waiting for the meteor 
G  
This clock is opening another door  
Cm 
Lots of love just keep it comin'  
Bb 
Making something out of nothin'  
G#            G 
These are the best that I  
Cm 
I don't know how to say  
Bb 
Losin' what I love today  
G#            G 
These are the best that I  
Cm 
Lots of love just keep it comin'  
Bb 
Making something out of nothin'  
G#            G 
These are the best that I  
Cm 
I don't know what to say  
Bb 
Look at what I lost today  
G#                 G 
And these are the things that I 
 
Second Verse ( same chords as first one ) 
 
Blood flowers in the kitchen  
Signing off and winding down  
This Martian ends her mission  
The nova is over  
She caught the ball  
By the mission bell  
Chase lizards bark at donkeys  
The love of a Martian  
 
Pre Chorus: (G throughout again) 
 
Let's bow our heads  
And let the trumpets blow  
Our girl is gone  
God bless her little soul  
 
Chorus 
 
Bridge: Repeat chords Cm , G# , D# and A# 
 
She's got a sword in case  
Though this is not her lord in case  
The one who can't afford to face her image is restored to grace.  
Disappeared,  
No trace.  
Musky tears.  
Suitcase.  
The down turn brave little burncub  
Bearcareless turnip snare rampages  
Pitch color pages...  
Down and out but not in Vegas,  
Disembarks and disengages.  
No loft.  
Sweet pink canary cages plummet  
Pop dewskin fortitude for the sniffing black noses  
That snort and allude to dangling trinkets  
That mimic the dirt cough go drink its.  
It's for you.  
Blue battered naval town slip kisses  
Delivered by duck muscles and bottlenosed grifters  
Arrive in time to catch the late show.  
It's a beehive barrel race.  
A shehive stare and chase wasted feature  
Who tried and failed to reach her.  
Embossed beneath a box in the closet  
That's lost.  
The kind that you find when you mind your own mysteries.  
Shiv sister to the quickness before it blisters  
Into newmorning milk blanket.  
Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch  
Bunny whose bouquet set a course for bloom without decay.  
Get your broom and sweep the echoes of yesternights fallen freckles...away...