Capo 3rd fret

Standard (EADGBE)

these withered hands have dug for a dream

 sifted through sand and leftover nightmares

over the hill a desolate wind

 turns shit to gold and blows my soul crazy

 the end

 o the end

we live again

o i grow weary of the end

o hungry days the footsteps of fools

gazing alone through sex-painted windows

dredging the night drunk libertines

stink like a colognes from the newfangled wasteland

Chorus

Bridge

love is a plague in a mix-match parade

 where the castaways look so deranged

when will the children learn to let their wildernesses burn

 and love will be new never cold and vacant

these withered hands have dug for a dream

sifted through sand and leftover nightmares

Chorus