Hors Dœuvre

D#m Db Bbm Ab D#m Db Bbm Ab Placing your lips and shoulders on the carpet D#m Db Bbm Ab Post-December hors d'oeuvres in cold apartments D#m Db Bbm Ab Once we comb our feathers and cure your longing D#m Db Bbm Ab We sleep as winter pigeons on pavement falling D#m Db Bbm Ab Grinning in clothes and timbers as I departed D#m Db Bbm Ab Holding your hands and fingers as if applauding D#m Db Bbm Ab Hunting the moon; hung so low, we might have caught it D#m Db Bbm Ab Placing your lucky clovers on the carpet