All The Dying

A C#m When I see a face of anonymity A C#m Crying on the street, it does something to me A G# D I make believe malady, tragedy A C# Flowers on the grave is a beautiful thing A D 'Cause flowers on the grave still means they're getting something A G# But when the flowers ain't there, and the grave is bare D I think of old dead bones that don't get theirs C#m A I think of all the butchers and all the beef C#m A I think of all the flies in all the hеat C#m C#m C#m I think of all the dying and dying and dying D A Dying and dying and decomposing C#m D Dying and dying's for real A C#m Whеn I see the damned in their dire straights A D Damning all the men with those American names A I say "don't damn the man, damn your hand G# For makin' a fist and shaking it all around" D D Damn the hand, damn your hand C#m A Oh, you can damn the butchers and damn the beef C#m A Oh, you can damn the flies in all the heat C#m C#m C#m Or you can damn the dying and dying and dying Solo A C#m Bm F A C#m Dying and dying and decomposing A D Dying and dying's for real A C#m Dying and dying and pounds of posy A D Dying and dying's forever A B E When I hear the crying of a siren in the night A B E I think of piles of writhing people, fighting for their lives A G#m I see an image of a body, broken and beet red D Cm Dm Em I hear the a cappella angels singing for the dead C#m A I think of all the butchers and all the beef C#m A I think of all the flies in all the heat C#m C E A I think of all the dirt that lays a bed for bones C#m C E A I think of all the words that get written on the stones C#m C E A I think of all the surf that come crashing over souls C#m I think of all the dying C#m All the dying C#m All the dying C#m All the dying