November Day
Keane
Ton : B
NBmaj7ovember day
ABmaj7nother year begins to show its age
BBmaj7egins to grate
NBmaj7ovember low
TBmaj7he sky is dark
TBmaj7he river still and grey
NBmaj7ovember day
Thought wEe were oBn our wG#may somewF#here
A lF#ittle sEpark of beauty in the aBmaj7ir
To sEhow that sBomething gG#mood can cF#ome
From aF#ll the tEears
The fruit that hard times bBmaj7ear
November dEay
WBere you just wG#masting my tF#ime?
WBas nothing wD#me felt rEeal?
WBere you just wG#masting my tF#ime?
IBmaj7 wish I'd kept a list of all
TBmaj7he stupid things you said
BBmaj7eside my bed
I'd lEook at iBt each tG#mime I bF#uilt
You uF#p as sEomething perfect
In my hBmaj7ead
November dEay
WBere you just wG#masting my tF#ime?
WBas nothing wD#me felt rEeal?
IBs there some mG#meaning that hF#ides?
WBaiting to bD#me reveaEled?
DBo you now sG#mit there and sF#mile
ABt how naïD#mve we weEre
NEovember day
NEovember day
NEovember day
And oBmaj7h I dreamed that we came back to lEife
And kissed on the ground where we lBmaj7ay
Framed by the magical lEight
Of tF#his November dBmaj7ay