Bm D A G


Bm
The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form
D
Adorned with patches of places you've been
   A
Is nothing on my khaki coat I got
        G
From a roadside when I was sixteen


   Bm
My boots are from airports

My backpack's from friends
     D
I'm not a man of substance, and so I'll pretend
         A
To be a wanderer, wondering
                 G
Leaving ascetic belongings in hostels and restaurant bins


    Bm
The roads are my home, horizon's my target
   D
If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it
A
Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it
G
Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on


     Bm
It's been sixty weeks since I saw Vienna
  D
A bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face
     A
I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready
         G
And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead


-single strums-
Bm
The distance is futile
A
Come on, don't be hasty
        F#m                              G
You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones
        Bm
I'll be gone then, for when you must be alone