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Out of the Blue David Gilmour
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[Bb]Out of the [F]blue,
On the [Bb]wings of a [F]dove,
A [Bb]messenger [F]comes,
with the beating of [C]drums,
it's not a message of [Bb]love
Our [Bb]children are [F]born,
and [Bb]we keep them [F]warm,
they [Bb]must have the [F]right
to live in the [C]light,
to be safe from the [Bb]storm.
And [Bb]out of the [F]blue,
with [Bb]wings on his [F]heels,
a [Bb]messenger [F]comes,
bearing [C]regrets
for the time that he [Bb]steals.
But [Bb]steal it he [F]will,
my [Bb]children's and [F]mine,
[Bb]against our [F]desires,
against all our [C]needs,
our blood spilled like [Bb]wine.
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Chorus
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[Dm] [Dm]Over and [C]over we [Bb]call,
No one [Dm]hears... and further
and [C]further and [Bb]further we [F]fall...
Though we [Dm]brave it, we [C]soon will have [Bb]wait
It is [Dm]clear that it's no dream at [C]all,
our [Bb]lives are at [F]stake.
[Bb] [C]
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Verse
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I [Bb]cannot [F]believe...
nor [Bb]even [F]pretend...
that the [Bb]thunder I [F]hear,
will just [C]disappear,
and the nightmare will [Bb]end.
So [Bb]hold back the [F]fire,
because [Bb]this much is [F]true,
when [Bb]all's said and [F]done,
then ending will [C]come,
from out of the [Bb]blue.
[F] [Bb] [F] [C]
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>>>>>>>>> Michael Uzquiano - mgu1@cornell.edu
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