The Tortured Poets Department - Taylor Swift, ukulele chords


Rating:
(4.5) Votes: 2

Published: 2024-04-22 14:30
Selection chords: Sarah Harris



Tonality
D C F Am G Dm



Intro: D

Verse:
C
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
F
 Straight from the tourtured poets department
C
 I think some things I never say
F
 Like, "Who uses typerwriters anyway?"
Am                           G
 But youʼre in self-sabotage mode
                             C
 Throwing spikes down on the road
                       F
 But Iʼve seen this episode and still love the show
 Am         C
 Who else decodes you?

 Chords
C                          F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?
C                             F
 And whoʼs gonna know you if not me?

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                         C
 "Youʼre not Dylan Thomas. Iʼm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel. Weʼre modern idiots."
                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?
   C
 Nobody
            F
 No-fucking-body
   F
 Nobody

Verse:
C
 You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
F
 We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
C
 I scratch your head, you fall asleep
F
 Like a tattooed golden retriever
Am                     G                             C
 But you awakened with dread, pounding nails in your head
                       F
 But Iʼve read this one where you come undone
   Am           C
 I chose this cyclone with you

Chorus:
C                          F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me? (Whoʼs gonna hold you? Whoʼs gonna hold you?)
C                             F
 And whoʼs gonna know you if not me? (Whoʼs gonna know you?)

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                         C
 "Youʼre not Dylan Thomas. Iʼm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel. Weʼre modern idiots."
                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?

C F C F

Bridge:
C
 Sometimes I wonder if youʼre gonna screw this up with me
F
 But you told Lucy youʼd kill yourself if I ever leave
C
 And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen
F
 Everyone we know understands why itʼs meant to be
C               F
 ʼCause weʼre crazy
            C                    F
 So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
    Am                             G
 At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger, and
               C              F
 Put it on the one people put wedding rings on
                Am                   G
 And thatʼs the closest Iʼve come to my heart exploding

Chorus:
C                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you? ...Me
C                           F
 And whoʼs gonna know you? ...Me
 Dm                          C
 And youʼre not Dylan Thomas. Iʼm not Patti Smith.
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel. Weʼre two idiots.
                 G
 And whoʼs gonna hold you?

C F C F

Outro:
Am             G
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
 C                           F
 Straight from the tourtured poets department
Am          G            C   F
 Who else decodes you?

C F C F


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