Chords for Patterson Hood - (Untold Pretties)

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_ [D] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [Cm] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [D] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [C] _ _ It started raining just as I dropped her off at her car.
[D] The sun was on the cusp of rising and it was still cool in the late winter, [C] but the days were now warming into springtime.
She walked halfway to her [D] car, then turned around and looked at me and smiled,
then ran back to my window as I wrote her [C] down for her to stick her head in and kiss me one more time. _
Then run back [E] in the rain to her car, get in, and drive off.
I [C] sat there for a time, the rain starting to drizzle into my open [E] window, sitting in the parking lot of the Southern Touch, thinking.
_ [C] As far as I'm concerned, it was the last time I ever saw her.
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_ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ On the drive out to the funeral to bury my granddaddy, it began to snow.
Growing [G] up in North Alabama, it seldom [E] snowed.
Sometimes [C] a couple of years would go by,
sometimes it might snow twice in a season, but it was still [G] a novelty.
[E] The sky was as gray as an open cord and [C] as pallid as fog, black and white.
My granddaddy always liked [G] snow and somehow I did too.
_ [D] _ _
The drive [C] was out the old Savannah Highway, which was still Tulane then.
We [G] wound around Dead Man's Curve where that lady from the Sunbeam Breadwrapper was killed in a head-on [F] back when I was little.
_ Out [F] past our family's farm to the little [C] Methodist Church where once upon a time my [G] grandmother had gone to Sunday [F] school.
The same humble structure that witnessed their marriage for [C] 42 years and where just a few years ago
I'd gone to youth group and [F] Methodist Youth Foundation campouts, hay rides, and lock-ins.
[C] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _
_ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _
[F] _ _ [C] _ _ Maybe I thought about that sad snowy morning and buried [D] my granddaddy those few years later as I drove home in [C] the rain.
_ Home to my fiance's bed, just a few weeks shy of getting married, [D] with a taste of an old high school
sweetheart lingering on my [C] lips and fingers [C] and the rain started pouring down.
Out of the sky like a wonderful [G] wrath from God.
A God who might spite me even as I turned from his [C] grasp and shun his embrace.
I was plotting an escape that I was still a few [G] years away from having [G] the guts to pull off. _ _
_ _ [F] _ _ Years later that realization became a [C] personal hell, followed me around [G] for a while and _ [F] then didn't anymore. _ _
[C] You can only carry hell around so long [G] before it gets to be a drag.
[Bb] _ _ _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
[Bb] _ _ [F] _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
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