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Oh My God  Jars of Clay

Good Monsters
This is from Jars of Clay's new cd "Good Monsters" coming out Sep. 5th, enjoy!
Standard Tuning (E A D G B E)

[Am7]Oh my God, look around this [F]place,
Your fingers [C]reach around the bone,
You set the [G]break and set the tone.
Flights of [Am7]grace, and future [F]falls
In present [C]pain all fools [G]say, "Oh my God."
Interlude 2x

[Am7]Oh my God, why are we so af[F]raid?
We make it w[C]orse when we don't bleed,
There is no c[G]ure for our disease.
Turn a ph[Am7]rase and rise a[F]gain,
Or fake your d[C]eath and only tell your closest f[G]riends,
Oh my God.

[Am7]Oh my God, can I comp[F]lain?
You take away my f[C]irm belief and graft my s[G]oul upon Your grief.
[Am7]Weddings, boats, and al[F]ibis,
All drift a[C]way, and a mother cr[G]ies...
No Guitar
Liars and fools, sons and failures, thieves will always say?
Lost and fo[Am]und, ailing w[G]anderers, hea[C]lers always s[F]ay?
[Am]Whores and angels, [G]men with problems, [C]leavers always s[F]ay?
[Am]Broken hearted, sep[G]arated, o[C]rphans always s[F]ay?
[Am]War creators, ra[G]cial haters, pre[C]achers always s[F]ay?
[Am]Distant fathers, fa[G]llen warriors, gi[C]vers always s[F]ay?
[Am]Pilgrim saints, l[G]onely widows, u[C]sers always [F]say?
[Am]Fearful mothers, wat[G]chful doubters, Sa[C]viors always s[F]ay?
[Am]Sometimes I can not forgive
and [G]these days mercy cuts so deep,
[C]If the world was how it should, [F]maybe I could get some sleep.
[Am]While I lay, I'd dream we're better, [G]scales were gone and faces
lighter, [C]when we wake we hate our brother, we still [F]move to hurt each other.
[Am]Sometimes I can close my eyes and [G]all the fear the keeps me silent,
[C]Falls below my heavy breathing, w[F]hat makes me so badly bent?
[Am]We all have a chance to murder, [G]we all have the need for wonder.
[C]We still want to be reminded that the [F]pain is worth the plunder.
[Am]Sometimes when I lose my grip, [G]I wonder what to make of heaven,
[C]All the times I thought to reach up, [F]all the times I had to give up.
[Am]Babies underneath their beds, [G]in hospitals that cannot treat them.
[C]All the wounds that money causes, a[F]ll the comforts of cathedrals,
[Am]All the cries of thirsty children, [G]this is our inheritance,
[C]All the rage of watching mothers, [F]this is our greatest offense
[Am]Oh my God, [G]Oh my God, [C]Oh my God[F].

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Am Am7 C F G
Rate #2 of 7 versions

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