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The Sundays

Heres Where The Story Ends

The Sundays

Sobre:

Dificuldade: facil | Estilo: indie pop / dream pop | Sentimento: melancolica, suave | Ocasião: cafe, bar, repertorioacustico | Tags: indie-pop, alternativo, romantica, violao, facil, ingles

The Sundays foi uma banda britânica de dream pop formada em 1987, em Londres, Inglaterra, pela vocalista e compositora Harriet Wheeler e pelo

guitarrista e compositor David Gavurin. Fear the Walking Dead é uma série de televisão norte-americana dramática pós-apocalíptica de terror criada por Robert Kirkman e Dave Erickson. Ela é derivada de The Walking Dead, que é baseada na série de quadrinhos de mesmo nome de Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore e Charlie Adlard. A série estreou no canal de televisão da AMC nos Estados Unidos em 23 de agosto de 2015.

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Capotraste: Sem capotraste Gmaj7 - 3 2 0 0 0 2 C* - 0 3 2 0 0 2 Cadd9 - 0 3 2 0 3 0 Intro: Gmaj7 C* Gmaj7 C* People I know, places I go Make me feel tongue tied I can see how, people look down They're on the inside Gmaj7 C* Gmaj7 C* Here's where the story ends Gmaj7 C* People I see, weary of me Showing my good side I can see how, people look down I'm on the outside Gmaj7 C* Gmaj7 C* Here's, where the story ends Ooh here's, where the story ends Cadd9 It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year Gmaj7 Which makes my eyes feel sore Oh I never should have said, the books that you read Were all I loved you for It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year Which makes me wonder why And it's the memories of the shed, that make me turn red Surprise, surprise, surprise Gmaj7 C* Crazy I know, places I go Make me feel so tired I can see how people look down I'm on the outside Gmaj7 C* Gmaj7 C* Here's, where the story ends Ooh here's, where the story ends Cadd9 It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year Gmaj7 Which makes my eyes feel sore And who ever would've thought, the books that you brought Were all I loved you for Oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed I know where I belong But the only thing I ever really wanted to say Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong Cadd9 It's that little souvenir, of a colorful year Gmaj7 Which makes me smile inside So I cynically, cynically say, the world is that way Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise Gmaj7 C* Gmaj7 C* Here's, where the story ends Ooh here's, where the story ends
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