Loud Son

E C#m E C#m Some son cold hands and E C#m You, a E C#m E C#m Black suit would A E A mirror wrote A E about the sin your praise E Then come home my children F#m A C#m cause the priests are getting tired of making amends again E C#m E C#m I'll play some music that we both like E C#m And push the table against the wall E C#m E C#m So there's room to dance all night Emaj7 C#m7 You had nothing to do with that sunset A F#m That's why I keep it close at hand A G#m But still I can't wait to go to sleep A G#m In a bed of freshly made sheets, alone E Come home my children F#m A C#m cause the priests are getting tired of making amends again A G#m