annuler
Change la taille du texte.
Remplace par des accords plus faciles à jouer.
Affiche les acccords français (Do, Ré, Mi…).
Seul le bas du texte défile, vous laissant ainsi les accords de départ visibles.
Certaines partitions n’affichent les accords qu’au début. Cet outil tente de les recopier dans l’ensemble du texte.
Marque le tempo à la vitesse que vous souhaitez.
( )
I flew in on the evening plane
Is it such a good idea that I am here again?
And I could cut my cold breath with a knife
And taste the winter of another life
A yellow cab from JFK the long way round
I didn't mind... gave me thinking time before I ran aground
On rocky memories and choking tears
I believe it only rained round here these thirty years
Now it's the first snow on Brooklyn and my cold feet are drumming
You don't see me in the shadows from your cozy window frame
And last night who was in your parlour wrapping presents in the late hour
To place upon your pillow as the morning came?
Thin wind stings my face... pull collar up
I could murder coffee in a grande cup
No welcome deli; there's no Starbucks here
A dime for a quick phone call could cost me dear
And the first snow on Brooklyn paints a Christmas card upon the pavement
The cab leaves a disappearing trace and then it's gone
And the snow covers my footprints deep regrets and heavy heartbeats
When you wake you'll never see the spot that I was standing on
Instrumental:
<u>Bm</u> <u>D</u> <u>A</u>
<u>C</u> <u>G</u> <u>Bm</u> <u>A</u>
<u>C</u> <u>G</u> <u>Bm</u> <u>Em</u>
<u>C</u> <u>D</u> <u>G</u> <u>Am</u> <u>C</u> <u>D</u>
I flew in on the evening plane
Is it such a good idea that I am here again?
And I could cut my cold breath with a knife
And taste the winter of another life
Now it's the first snow on Brooklyn and my cold feet are drumming
You don't see me in the shadows from your cozy window frame
And last night who was in your parlour wrapping presents in the late hour
To place upon your pillow as the morning came?
Some things are best forgotten... some are better half-remembered
I just thought that I might be there on your on your Christmas night
And the first snow on Brooklyn makes a lonely road to travel
Cold crunch steps that echo as the blizzard bites
(moins de barrés)