The Tortured Poets Department

	  		
Verse 1:
C 
 You left your typewriter at my apartment 
F 
 Straight from the tortured poets department 
C                            F 
 I think some things I never say 

"Like who uses typewriters anyway?" 
Am                            G 
  But you're in self-sabotage mode 
                            C 
Throwing spikes down on the road 
                      F 
But I've seen this episode 

And still love the show 
Am         G 
Who else decodes you? 


    C 
And who's gonna hold you? 
   F 
Like me 
    C 
And who's gonna know you? 
     F 
If not me 
                               Am 
I laughed in your face and said 
                        G 
"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith 
C                           F 
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel 

We're modern idiots" 
    Am               G 
And who's gonna hold you? 
  C 
Like me 
      F 
No, nobody 
           C 
No-fucking-body 
   F 
Nobody 



Verse 2:
C 
 You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate 
F 
 We declared Charlie Puth 

Should be a bigger artist 
C                               F 
 I scratch your head, you fall asleep 

Like a tattooed golden retriever 
Am                    G 
  But you awaken with dread 

Pounding nails in your head 
C                   F 
 But I've read this one where you come undone 
  Am           G 
I chose this cyclone with you 


    C 
And who's gonna hold you? 
   F 
Like me (Who's gonna hold you?) 
    C 
And who's gonna know you? (Who's gonna hold you?) 
   F 
Like me 
                               Am 
I laughed in your face and said 
                        G 
"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith 
C                           F 
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel 

We're modern idiots" 
    Am               G 
And who's gonna hold you? 
  C 
Like me (Who's gonna hold you?) 
      F 
No, nobody (Who's gonna hold you?) 
           C 
No-fucking-body (Who's gonna hold you?) 
  F 
Nobody (Who's gonna hold you?)
 

Bridge:
C 
 Sometimes I wonder if you're 

Gonna screw this up with me 
F 
 But you told Lucy you'd 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 it's meant to be 
C                 F 
 Because we're crazy 
          C 
So tell me 
                    F 
Who else is gonna know me? 
   Am 
At dinner you take my ring off my 
G 
Middle finger and put it on the 
C              F 
One people put wedding rings on 
               Am 
And that's the closest I've come 
   G 
To my heart exploding 


C                    F 
Who's gonna hold you? Me 
C                    F 
Who's gonna know you? Me 
Am                      G 
"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith 
C                           F 
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel 

We're modern idiots" 
Am          G 
Who's gonna hold you? 
C 
Who's gonna hold you? 

Who's gonna hold you? 

Who's gonna hold you? 
            F 
Who's gonna hold you? 
C 
Who's gonna hold you? 

Who's gonna hold you? 

Who's gonna hold you? 
            F 
Who's gonna hold you? 

Gonna know you? 

Gonna troll you? 


Final 

Am              G 
  You left your typewriter at my apartment 
C                  F 
 Straight from the tortured poets department 
Am         G          C  F  C  F 
Who else decodes you?