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
Bm D A G