Biografia:
Frog Eyes são uma banda de indie rock de Victoria, British Columbia no Canadá.
Banda
Carey Mercer - vocais, guitarra
Melanie Campbell - bateria (esposa de Carey Mercer)
Michael Rak
Ryan Beattie
Read more on Last.fm
Outras músicas:
- A Flower In A Glove
- Claxxons Lament
- Crystal Blip
- Deaths Ship
- Dont Give Up Your Dreams
- I Aint Around Much
- Idle Songs
- Lear In Love
- Odettas War
- On A Finely Sewn Sleeve
- Rejoinders In A Storm
- Rip Down The Fences That Fence The Garden
- The Beat Is Down Four Wretched Singers Beyond Any World That You Have Known
- The Country Child
- The Sensitive Girls
- Two Girls One For Heaven And The Other One For Rome
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
This is how I play the song. Lyrics are my own interpretations!
Suggestions and corrections welcome!
It's a lot easier to play if you move it up to Capo 1. To do that, hit the Transpose button on the left
down so that it says -1, then put a Capo on the 1st fret and play those chords.
Bb Ab
[Verse 1]
Bb Ab
Rip down the fences that fence the garden,
Bb Ab
There are mornings when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, with the jeweler's sick delight,
Bb Cm
And it's morning, and I'm starving, and the shadow-maker's shadow has hardened,
Bb Eb
17, in the morning, I'm crying out warnings in methamphetamines, not alright,
[Chorus 1]
Eb F#
They play rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Ab Gm
We're all made of mothers, and not from some cloth,
Ab Gm
But the tail of a cloth, shall be the wearer-cloth,
Cm Ab Eb
In the dawn, by the river, I shall swallow my rage!
[Verse 2]
Bb Ab
Help me, opposer, but the tempest has brought a breath that's rotten,
Bb Ab
Well, it's 4 in the morning, and the boiler keeps twinkling as the trucks stretch into light,
Bb Cm
And the judge and his son, they were pigs, so I must flee from this garden,
Bb Eb
And I feel that the next land will be but a fat land, and I hope for the wind and his wolfish bite,
[Chorus 2]
Eb F#
That bite, rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Ab Gm
Your fangs are but a page from the book of tough stuff,
Ab Gm
And the Welch's of wine, and I'm gonna pledge you their cups,
Cm Ab Eb
If only you could rise into a Saint Peter's life,
Cm Ab Eb
Lay a siege upon the city that bequeath you it's light.
[Bridge]
Fm Eb
And whoa to the days where we buried our light,
Fm Eb Fm
And maters of this day will never get over it's stage fright,
Eb
And whoa to the fascist, and his delight,
Bb Ab
Tears on the floor,
Bb Ab
Tears on the floor,
Bb Eb
Tears on the floor.
Eb Db Eb Db Eb Fm Ab Cm
[Verse 3]
Bb Ab
And you rip down the fences that fence the garden,
Bb Ab
It is morning, when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, in a murderer's sick delight,
Bb Cm
And you can't always control the passing white fire,
Bb Eb
Cause it's water, sweet fuckin' water that makes you feel alright!
[Outro]
Bb Eb
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff,
Bb Eb
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff.
Gm Bb x4
Db Eb
Suggestions and corrections welcome!
It's a lot easier to play if you move it up to Capo 1. To do that, hit the Transpose button on the left
down so that it says -1, then put a Capo on the 1st fret and play those chords.
Bb Ab
[Verse 1]
Bb Ab
Rip down the fences that fence the garden,
Bb Ab
There are mornings when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, with the jeweler's sick delight,
Bb Cm
And it's morning, and I'm starving, and the shadow-maker's shadow has hardened,
Bb Eb
17, in the morning, I'm crying out warnings in methamphetamines, not alright,
[Chorus 1]
Eb F#
They play rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Ab Gm
We're all made of mothers, and not from some cloth,
Ab Gm
But the tail of a cloth, shall be the wearer-cloth,
Cm Ab Eb
In the dawn, by the river, I shall swallow my rage!
[Verse 2]
Bb Ab
Help me, opposer, but the tempest has brought a breath that's rotten,
Bb Ab
Well, it's 4 in the morning, and the boiler keeps twinkling as the trucks stretch into light,
Bb Cm
And the judge and his son, they were pigs, so I must flee from this garden,
Bb Eb
And I feel that the next land will be but a fat land, and I hope for the wind and his wolfish bite,
[Chorus 2]
Eb F#
That bite, rough, rough, settle this stuff,
Ab Gm
Your fangs are but a page from the book of tough stuff,
Ab Gm
And the Welch's of wine, and I'm gonna pledge you their cups,
Cm Ab Eb
If only you could rise into a Saint Peter's life,
Cm Ab Eb
Lay a siege upon the city that bequeath you it's light.
[Bridge]
Fm Eb
And whoa to the days where we buried our light,
Fm Eb Fm
And maters of this day will never get over it's stage fright,
Eb
And whoa to the fascist, and his delight,
Bb Ab
Tears on the floor,
Bb Ab
Tears on the floor,
Bb Eb
Tears on the floor.
Eb Db Eb Db Eb Fm Ab Cm
[Verse 3]
Bb Ab
And you rip down the fences that fence the garden,
Bb Ab
It is morning, when the fruit seems to glisten under sun, in a murderer's sick delight,
Bb Cm
And you can't always control the passing white fire,
Bb Eb
Cause it's water, sweet fuckin' water that makes you feel alright!
[Outro]
Bb Eb
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff,
Bb Eb
They say settle, settle, settle, settle this stuff.
Gm Bb x4
Db Eb
From Zero
Fronda
Front 242
Front Country
Front Range