A E Sure was a hell of a mistake I made But I sure am glad that I made it No way for a grown man to behave More the act of a teen opportunist G#m A B I stand accused of losing my head E B A We sit so high on the city walls Our tears wash clean the cobblestones It's not so much that the thrill is gone B C#m D Just a cleaner, sweeter, brighter thrill has come A along I can sense trouble just around the bend And it's all benn my kind of making I can't carry on with all this pretence When it's clear that my love has been fading I stand accused of the things I said E B A We sit so high on the city walls Our tears wash clean the cobblestones It's not so much that the thrill is gone B C#m D Just a cleaner, sweeter, brighter thrill has come A Along
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