Am
1 It was a slow day
C — D Am C — D C — D C — D
and the sun was beating on the soldiers by the side of the road.
There was a bright light,
a shattering of shop windows, the bomb in the baby carriage
was wired to the radio.
Chorus:
G C D
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
G C D C — D C — D
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all,
The way we look to a distant constellation
that’s dying in a corner of the sky.
These are the days of miracle and wonder
and don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.
2 It was a dry wind
and it swept across the desert and curled into the circle
of birth.
And the dead sand
was falling on the children, the mothers and the fathers
and the automatic earth.
Chorus:
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all,
The way we look to a distant constellation
that’s dying in a corner of the sky.
These are the days of miracle and wonder
and don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.
3 It’s a turn around jump-shot,
it’s ev’rybody jump start, it’s ev’ry generation throws
a hero up the pop-charts.
Medicine is magical and magical is art.
There go the boy in the bubble and the baby with
the baboon heart.
Chorus:
These are the days of lasers in the jungle,
lasers in the jungle somewhere.
Staccato signals of constant information,
a loose affiliation of millionaires and billionaires and baby:
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all, don’t cry, don’t cry.
1 It was a slow day
C — D Am C — D C — D C — D
and the sun was beating on the soldiers by the side of the road.
There was a bright light,
a shattering of shop windows, the bomb in the baby carriage
was wired to the radio.
Chorus:
G C D
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
G C D C — D C — D
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all,
The way we look to a distant constellation
that’s dying in a corner of the sky.
These are the days of miracle and wonder
and don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.
2 It was a dry wind
and it swept across the desert and curled into the circle
of birth.
And the dead sand
was falling on the children, the mothers and the fathers
and the automatic earth.
Chorus:
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all,
The way we look to a distant constellation
that’s dying in a corner of the sky.
These are the days of miracle and wonder
and don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.
3 It’s a turn around jump-shot,
it’s ev’rybody jump start, it’s ev’ry generation throws
a hero up the pop-charts.
Medicine is magical and magical is art.
There go the boy in the bubble and the baby with
the baboon heart.
Chorus:
These are the days of lasers in the jungle,
lasers in the jungle somewhere.
Staccato signals of constant information,
a loose affiliation of millionaires and billionaires and baby:
These are the days of miracle and wonder.
This is the long distance call.
The way the camera follows us in slomo,
the way we look to us all, don’t cry, don’t cry.
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