| C | F | |
| Who is that | upon the stairs |
| F | Gm | |
| Acti | ng like he don't know where |
| Bb | F | |
| and who is l | aying down all the cards |
| Dm | |
| and giving me the wrong things to say |
| Gm | |
| and like a wheel on the table |
| Bb | |
| He's a Cain to my Abel |
| C | F | |
| Oh....... it's | my shadow |
| F | Gm | |
| The con | fessor to my dreams |
| Bb | C | F | |
| casting ribbo | n round m | y feet.....oh int | o my day |
| F | Gm | |
| it's my s | hadow...making eyes until the sun lights the daytime |
| Bb | C | F | |
| as she comes | ..oh..int | o my day |
| D# | Bb | F | |
| Happy | in t | he time when I would have been there to see you |
| D# | Bb | F | |
| Happy | in the time w | hen I would have been there at all |
| D | C | D | |
| Happy when the | night is gone an | d I believe you |
| E | F | D | |
| Hap | py when the ni | ght is gone and I need a call. |
| (Instrumental) |
| D | G | Am | |
| Who is chas | ing | in the wind all the letters never sent |
| G | |
| and w | ho is dusting down the stars |
| Em | |
| an | d giving me the wrong moves to make. |
| Am | C | |
| And l | ike a w | heel on the table, he's a Cain to my Abel |
| D | G | |
| da | nci | ng upon the floor, it's my shadow |
| C | |
| making e | yes until the sun blinds the daytime |
| D | G | |
| as | she comes | ..oh into my day |
| G | C | |
| it's | my | shadow like a willow to my stream |
| casting heaven round my feet |
| D | G | |
| oh.....into | my day |
| G | D | C | |
| When y | ou f | ind that things are getting wild is that |
| D | G | |
| the harde | st smile that y | ou can ever feel. |
| G | D | C | |
| When y | ou f | ind that things are getting wild is that |
| D | G | |
| the harde | st smile that y | ou can ever feel. |
| G | C | C | G | C | G | |
| para | lysed un | ti | l the | sun li | ghts the daytime as she comes |
| Am | D | |
| And if my | shadow | comes a creeping |
| Am | D | G | |
| t | hen | I know | i'll find me sleeping in the sun. |
| G | D | C | G | G | D | C | |
| When y | ou f | ind that things are getting wild is that |
| D | G | |
| the hard | est thing that you | can ever feel (repeat to fade) |