Chords for Astronautalis -- Mr. Blessington's Imperialist Plot

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Pretty Patricia was a [Fm] nervous wreck, deadened by the [B] darkest head, furnished by a charlatan,
[Ebm] posing as a promise, just a plot, [Fm] a [Eb] verdict, rather, hands are held for reasons, wanting
as the burden, to the scales, but for just the receptionist, the skeletons, in hollowed
halls of number, read in crookedly buzzing, let through the [F] skinny comb, and I am just
a [Abm] human, German, notepad, and a picture, from whose neck there was a collection of true [B] questions,
and some piece of law.
Daryl Dollar [Ab] carries all of H.O. on his [B] back, and only Hodges said, because the fetish [Eb] roflics
of the quartets, poor Mrs.
Dollar's [Abm] down the hall, she keeps a watchful eye, it's on account
to see, but to believe in a [B] blinded contagion.
Lady Dollar's [Ab] neck ring is graped inside the [Eb] crop, she keeps eyes instead of counts, and
she skins her up for time, and saccharine little skins her cream, she sleeps at night, and hopes
to read to her, but the sheets of the petty plunder in the slots.
Every [Abm] now and then, conversely, plans are [Eb] mismatched, fall apart, [Abm] and of unassuming [Ebm] champions, _
[Eb] collecting
[Abm] all the dirt, to build a tower to [Eb] the sky, of slaving in [Abm] this basement, one day, [Eb] this
will all remain mine, [Abm] _ one day, [Eb] this will all remain mine. _
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_ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ [Eb]
She was so out with [E] Leon Perel, I wasn't [F] raptured with the act of [Gbm] cracking, you've seen Michelle,
[G] catching Esteban with his hand in his tail, it's [A] Moiselle, but this girl's [Bb] skills are
past the run of the mill, [Ebm] weak a man would abandon the plot, take what he got, setting
up shop at a cloud eight, view at the top, and everybody's got bones, there's a heart
of the spot, with their appointments pinned down, and their heads unboxed, devote everything
that I've got, the stocking and box, has got to be a bunch of un-porcelain blocks, that's
where I slipped up, lost in a wash, she doubled back up on a tracksuit, caught me off guard,
she's classed as a smart, I am defeated at my own game, caught me collecting dirt to
blackmail them for my own gain, a tower made of dirt is just a castle, from a grass pack
and a pocket full of [Eb] stones, until the last one's cast.
Every [Abm] now and then, [Eb] conversely, plans are mismatched, fall apart, and of unassuming
[Gb] _
[Eb] champions, collecting [Abm] so much dirt, that I was buried [Gb] down alive, [Eb] of slaving in this
basement, until the day I die, _ _ until the day I die, _ _ until the day, _ _ _ _ until the day I die.
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