The Postcard (2 вариант)

A 
D 
This is a postcard 
                            F         G 
Saying I‘m alright in this beautiful city 
D 
This is a phone call 
                    F        G 
Saying, yes, I am sleeping alone here 
D                  F 
But the telephone lines are cut 
    G           F        G 
My hands can‘t hold the paper 
 D 
You are on my mind 
 
Nobody knows your name here, 
Except when the moon is out 
And then they toss in their sleep 
Crying out for you to take them 
But me I cannot sleep, 
I cannot dream, 
My heart is shattered 
You are on my mind 
 
A 
Once seven colors used to make a man blind 
And now we are like birds stuck in barbed wire 
 
Precise, like sunrise 
A child just like any other 
Made of the bones of the earth 
Fragile and deathless 
Yes, I‘m alright 
I‘m a church, 
And I‘m burning down 
 
You are on my mind...