G C
You wore a little cross of gold around your neck,
G D
I saw it as you flew between my reasons,
Am C
Like a raven in the night time when you left.
G C
I wear a chain upon my wrist that bears no name,
G D
You touched it and you wore it,
Am C
And you kept it in your pillow all the same.
G C
My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms,
Am
I thought myself her keeper,
D
She thought I meant her harm,
G
She thought I was the archer,
C
A weather man of words,
Fma7 C
But I could never shoot down,
G Fma7 C Fma7 C
My high-flying bird.
G C
The white walls of your dressing room are stained in scarlet red.
G D
You bled upon the cold stone like a young man,
Am C
In the foreign field of death.
G C
Wouldn’t it be wonderful is all I heard you say,
G D
You never closed your eyes at night and learned to love daylight,
Am C
Instead you moved away.
G C
My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms,
Am
I thought myself her keeper,
D
She thought I meant her harm,
G
She thought I was the archer,
C
A weather man of words,
Fma7 C
But I could never shoot down,
G C
My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms,
Am
I thought myself her keeper,
D
She thought I meant her harm,
G
She thought I was the archer,
C
A weather man of words,
Fma7 C
But I could never shoot down,
G Fma7 C Fma7 C
My high-flying bird.
G C
My high-flying, high-flying bird.
G C
My high-flying, high-flying bird.
G C G
My high-flying, high-flying bird.
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