"Ravens" by Mount Eerie (official video) Chords
Tempo:
64.1 bpm
Chords used:
G
Bm
F#
A
D
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[Bm]
In October 2015, I was out in the yard.
I'd just finished splitting up the scrap 2x4s in Deakin.
[Bm] I glanced up at the half-moon pink chill refinery cloudlight.
Two big black birds flew over their wings, whooshing and low.
[A] Two raven, but only two.
[F#] Their [D] black feathers [F#m] dinted in [G] the sunset.
[Bm]
I knew these birds were omens, but of what I wasn't sure.
They were flying out toward the [G] island where we hoped to move.
You [Em] were probably inside.
You were probably aching, wanting not to die.
Your body transformed.
I couldn't bear to look, so I [A] turned my head west, like an early death.
[F#] Now I [D] can only see you [F#m] on the fridge in [G] lifeless pictures.
[Bm] And in every dream I have at night, and in every room I walk into, I hear.
Where I sit the next October, [G] still seeing your eyes.
[Em] Bleeding and afraid, full of love.
Calling out from another place, [A] because you're not [A] here.
I watched you die in this room, then I gave your clothes away.
I'm sorry, [F#] I had [D] to.
[F#] And now [G]
I will [Bm] move with our daughter.
We will ride over water, [Em] with your ghost underneath the boat.
What was you is now my bones, and I cannot be at home.
[A] I'm running, reflailing.
[F#] [D] [F#] [G]
[Bm] [G]
The second time I went to hide, [B] Aguay was just me [G] and our daughter.
[Em] Only one month after you died, my face was still contorted.
Driving up and down, with sweat inside and the sun weeping.
[A] I needed to return to the place where we discovered [F#] that [D] [F#] childless.
We could [G] blanket ourselves in the moss there for a long time.
But when we came home, you were pregnant.
[B] And then our [Bm] life together [Em] was not long.
You had cancer, and you were killed, and I'm left living like this.
Crying on the logging roads, with your ashes in a jar.
[A] Thinking about the things I'll tell you.
When you get back from wherever it [F#m] is that you [G] left on.
[F#] But then I remember [Bm] death is real.
And I'm still here in Masset.
It's August 12th, 2016.
[B] You've been [Bm] dead for one month [Em] and three days, and we are sleeping in the forest.
There is sand still in the blankets from the beach where we released you from the jar.
[A] When we wake up, all the clothes that we left out are cold and damp just [F#] from the air [D] permeating.
[E] The ground [G] opens up, [Bm] surrounded by growth.
Nurse logs with layers of [B] moss and life.
[Bm] Young cedars, [B] the sound of water.
Thicks allow, [Em] and god-like huckleberries.
The ground absorbs and remakes whatever falls.
Nothing dies [A] here, but here is where I came to grieve.
To dive into it with you, [D] with your [F#] absence.
But I [G] keep picking you berries.
[D#] [N]
In October 2015, I was out in the yard.
I'd just finished splitting up the scrap 2x4s in Deakin.
[Bm] I glanced up at the half-moon pink chill refinery cloudlight.
Two big black birds flew over their wings, whooshing and low.
[A] Two raven, but only two.
[F#] Their [D] black feathers [F#m] dinted in [G] the sunset.
[Bm]
I knew these birds were omens, but of what I wasn't sure.
They were flying out toward the [G] island where we hoped to move.
You [Em] were probably inside.
You were probably aching, wanting not to die.
Your body transformed.
I couldn't bear to look, so I [A] turned my head west, like an early death.
[F#] Now I [D] can only see you [F#m] on the fridge in [G] lifeless pictures.
[Bm] And in every dream I have at night, and in every room I walk into, I hear.
Where I sit the next October, [G] still seeing your eyes.
[Em] Bleeding and afraid, full of love.
Calling out from another place, [A] because you're not [A] here.
I watched you die in this room, then I gave your clothes away.
I'm sorry, [F#] I had [D] to.
[F#] And now [G]
I will [Bm] move with our daughter.
We will ride over water, [Em] with your ghost underneath the boat.
What was you is now my bones, and I cannot be at home.
[A] I'm running, reflailing.
[F#] [D] [F#] [G]
[Bm] [G]
The second time I went to hide, [B] Aguay was just me [G] and our daughter.
[Em] Only one month after you died, my face was still contorted.
Driving up and down, with sweat inside and the sun weeping.
[A] I needed to return to the place where we discovered [F#] that [D] [F#] childless.
We could [G] blanket ourselves in the moss there for a long time.
But when we came home, you were pregnant.
[B] And then our [Bm] life together [Em] was not long.
You had cancer, and you were killed, and I'm left living like this.
Crying on the logging roads, with your ashes in a jar.
[A] Thinking about the things I'll tell you.
When you get back from wherever it [F#m] is that you [G] left on.
[F#] But then I remember [Bm] death is real.
And I'm still here in Masset.
It's August 12th, 2016.
[B] You've been [Bm] dead for one month [Em] and three days, and we are sleeping in the forest.
There is sand still in the blankets from the beach where we released you from the jar.
[A] When we wake up, all the clothes that we left out are cold and damp just [F#] from the air [D] permeating.
[E] The ground [G] opens up, [Bm] surrounded by growth.
Nurse logs with layers of [B] moss and life.
[Bm] Young cedars, [B] the sound of water.
Thicks allow, [Em] and god-like huckleberries.
The ground absorbs and remakes whatever falls.
Nothing dies [A] here, but here is where I came to grieve.
To dive into it with you, [D] with your [F#] absence.
But I [G] keep picking you berries.
[D#] [N]
Key:
G
Bm
F#
A
D
G
Bm
F#
[Bm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ In October 2015, _ I was out in the yard.
I'd just finished splitting up the scrap 2x4s in Deakin.
[Bm] I glanced up at the half-moon pink chill refinery cloudlight.
Two big black birds flew over their wings, whooshing and low.
[A] Two _ raven, but only two.
[F#] Their [D] black feathers [F#m] dinted in [G] the sunset.
[Bm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I knew these birds were omens, but of what I wasn't sure. _
They were flying out toward the [G] island where we hoped to move.
You [Em] were probably inside.
_ You were probably aching, wanting not to die.
Your body transformed.
I couldn't bear to look, so I [A] turned my head west, like an early death. _
[F#] Now I [D] can only see you [F#m] on the fridge in [G] lifeless pictures.
[Bm] And in every dream I have at night, and in every room I walk into, I hear.
Where I sit the next October, [G] still seeing your eyes. _
[Em] _ Bleeding and afraid, _ full of love.
_ Calling out from another place, [A] because you're not [A] here.
I watched you die in this room, then I gave your clothes away.
I'm sorry, [F#] I had [D] to.
[F#] And now [G] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
I will [Bm] move with our daughter.
We will ride over water, [Em] _ with your ghost underneath the boat.
What was you is now my bones, and I cannot be at home.
[A] _ I'm running, _ _ reflailing.
[F#] _ _ [D] _ _ [F#] _ _ [G] _ _
[Bm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [G]
The second time I went to hide, [B] Aguay was just me [G] and our daughter.
[Em] Only one month after you died, my face was still contorted.
Driving up and down, with sweat inside and the sun weeping.
[A] I needed to return to the place where we discovered [F#] that _ [D] _ [F#] childless.
We could [G] blanket ourselves in the moss there for a long _ time.
But when we came home, you were pregnant.
[B] And then our [Bm] life together [Em] was not long.
You had cancer, and you were killed, and I'm left living like this.
Crying on the logging roads, with your ashes in a jar.
[A] Thinking about the things I'll tell you.
When you get back from wherever it [F#m] is that you [G] left on.
[F#] But then I remember [Bm] death is real.
_ _ And I'm still here in Masset.
It's August 12th, 2016.
[B] You've been [Bm] dead for one month [Em] and three days, and we are sleeping in the forest.
There is sand still in the blankets from the beach where we released you from the jar.
[A] When we wake up, all the clothes that we left out are cold and damp just [F#] from the air [D] permeating.
[E] The ground [G] opens up, [Bm] _ surrounded by growth.
Nurse logs with layers of [B] moss and life.
[Bm] Young cedars, [B] the sound of water.
Thicks allow, [Em] and god-like huckleberries.
_ The ground absorbs and remakes whatever falls.
_ Nothing dies [A] here, but here is where I came to grieve.
To dive into it with you, _ [D] with your [F#] absence.
But I [G] keep picking you berries.
_ _ _ [D#] _ _ [N] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ In October 2015, _ I was out in the yard.
I'd just finished splitting up the scrap 2x4s in Deakin.
[Bm] I glanced up at the half-moon pink chill refinery cloudlight.
Two big black birds flew over their wings, whooshing and low.
[A] Two _ raven, but only two.
[F#] Their [D] black feathers [F#m] dinted in [G] the sunset.
[Bm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I knew these birds were omens, but of what I wasn't sure. _
They were flying out toward the [G] island where we hoped to move.
You [Em] were probably inside.
_ You were probably aching, wanting not to die.
Your body transformed.
I couldn't bear to look, so I [A] turned my head west, like an early death. _
[F#] Now I [D] can only see you [F#m] on the fridge in [G] lifeless pictures.
[Bm] And in every dream I have at night, and in every room I walk into, I hear.
Where I sit the next October, [G] still seeing your eyes. _
[Em] _ Bleeding and afraid, _ full of love.
_ Calling out from another place, [A] because you're not [A] here.
I watched you die in this room, then I gave your clothes away.
I'm sorry, [F#] I had [D] to.
[F#] And now [G] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
I will [Bm] move with our daughter.
We will ride over water, [Em] _ with your ghost underneath the boat.
What was you is now my bones, and I cannot be at home.
[A] _ I'm running, _ _ reflailing.
[F#] _ _ [D] _ _ [F#] _ _ [G] _ _
[Bm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [G]
The second time I went to hide, [B] Aguay was just me [G] and our daughter.
[Em] Only one month after you died, my face was still contorted.
Driving up and down, with sweat inside and the sun weeping.
[A] I needed to return to the place where we discovered [F#] that _ [D] _ [F#] childless.
We could [G] blanket ourselves in the moss there for a long _ time.
But when we came home, you were pregnant.
[B] And then our [Bm] life together [Em] was not long.
You had cancer, and you were killed, and I'm left living like this.
Crying on the logging roads, with your ashes in a jar.
[A] Thinking about the things I'll tell you.
When you get back from wherever it [F#m] is that you [G] left on.
[F#] But then I remember [Bm] death is real.
_ _ And I'm still here in Masset.
It's August 12th, 2016.
[B] You've been [Bm] dead for one month [Em] and three days, and we are sleeping in the forest.
There is sand still in the blankets from the beach where we released you from the jar.
[A] When we wake up, all the clothes that we left out are cold and damp just [F#] from the air [D] permeating.
[E] The ground [G] opens up, [Bm] _ surrounded by growth.
Nurse logs with layers of [B] moss and life.
[Bm] Young cedars, [B] the sound of water.
Thicks allow, [Em] and god-like huckleberries.
_ The ground absorbs and remakes whatever falls.
_ Nothing dies [A] here, but here is where I came to grieve.
To dive into it with you, _ [D] with your [F#] absence.
But I [G] keep picking you berries.
_ _ _ [D#] _ _ [N] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _