Walter Mitty And His Makeshift Orchestra
F# F# My perfect pin-up come off the wall I ditched my buds for her bedroom but I swear it's not my fault B I think these feelings must be holy F# This could be love, sorry love. Db B F# I'd find her drunk in the street, kiss the puke off of her cheek, put her to bed. Db B And in the morning my doll remembers nothing at all F# I never said. F# But now our summer's bending two different ways. We talk like every other day but now the texts are getting shorter. B Gotta sneak away to talk on the phone F# I kinda mumble so nobody else knows. Db B F# The conversations are sweet, real nice but nothing too deep, not like before. Db B F# Still say I love you, but now the words are forced from our mouths, kind of a bore. Like we're not fun anymore. (kazoo solo) F# B F# Db B F# Db B F# F# But now my pillows smell like you in the morning. I've got your stain stuck in my sheets and I'm like holy pfft cannoli. B I've got plenty competition I know. F# She'll find a new man to carry her home. Db B F# He's probably cooler than me, sleeps right where I used to sleep, right by her door. Db B F# And in the morning they kiss, say I've never felt like this before.