Taylor Swift - The Tortured Poets Department

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[Intro]
D
 
[Verse 1]
C You left your typerwriter at my apartment
F Straight from the tourtured poets department
C I think some things I never say
F Like, "Who uses typerwriters anyway?"
Am G But you're in self-sabotage mode
C Throwing spikes down on the road
F But I've seen this episode and still love the show
Am C Who else decodes you?
 
 
[Chords]
C F And who's gonna hold you like me?
C F And who's gonna know you if not me?
 
I laughed in your face and said,
Dm C "You're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F C This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're modern idiots."
F And who's gonna hold you like me?
C Nobody
F No-fucking-body
F Nobody
 
 
[Verse 2]
C You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
F We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
C I scratch your head, you fall asleep
F Like a tattooed golden retriever
Am G C But you awakened with dread, pounding nails in your head
F But I've read this one where you come undone
Am C I chose this cyclone with you
 
 
[Chorus]
C F And who's gonna hold you like me? (Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?)
C F And who's gonna know you if not me? (Who's gonna know you?)
 
I laughed in your face and said,
Dm C "You're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F C This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're modern idiots."
F And who's gonna hold you like me?
C F C F
 
 
[Bridge]
C Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
F But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
C And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen
F Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
C F 'Cause we're crazy
C F So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
Am G At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger, and
C F Put it on the one people put wedding rings on
Am G And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding
 
 
[Alt Chorus]
C F And who's gonna hold you? ...Me
C F And who's gonna know you? ...Me
Dm C And you're not Dylan Thomas. I'm not Patti Smith.
F C This ain't the Chelsea Hotel. We're two idiots.
G And who's gonna hold you?
C F C F
 
[Outro]
Am G You left your typerwriter at my apartment
C F Straight from the tourtured poets department
Am G C F Who else decodes you?
C F C F
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