Bayside - Sick, Sick, Sick: chords

   F#m      D        A    C#m
I curse to hell the magistrate
    F#m       D    C#m   C#/F
who granted this unholy fate
       F#m     D
But I know I know I
A         C#m    F#m
asked for this myself
     D        C#m    C#/F
I’m bound by law to hell
          F#m  D
and it’s sick sick sick
 A           C#m         F#m
Humans have their needs living in
   D              C#m            C#/F
a fairytale it’s tearing at the seams
    F#m   D          A
The dank reject the devil in a
C#m    F#m      D   C#m C#/F
dress exactly what you see

     F#m           C#/F
It's Sick Sick Sick
     F#m           C#/F
it’s sick sick sick

Chorus:
F#m
You made a mess of things
D
My what a mess you’ve made
   A
I hate the way you make me feel
  C#
I hate the way you make me
   F#m
In your world it’s cold outside
 D               E
So button up and open wide
   A                F#m
I hate the way you make me
      C#
feel sick sick sick

           F#m  D A C#m
Oh woah oh oh oh
           F#m D  A C#m
Oh woah oh oh  oh oh

If memory serves me correct
I gave you all and you gave me less
Your sexcapades deliver checks
But can't afford you self-respect
And it's sick, sick, sick, humans on their knees
Living in a fairytale that's tearing at the seams
A dank reject, a devil in a dress
Exactly what you seem

Sick, sick, sick
It’s sick, sick, sick

Chorus:
You made a mess of things
My, what a mess you've made
I hate the way you make me feel
I hate the way you make me
In your world, it's cold outside
So button up and open wide
I hate the way you make me feel
Sick, sick, sick

 D                     E
Maybe love is looking for
    F#m
someone to fill up holes
         E  D
We grow up building lies
              E       F#m  E
with holes in all our walls
     D
The watch can fall but
          E          F#m
here you were with spare
bricks to save the day
     E   D
And we pray it’s not too late
       C#
Spare bricks can be dead weight

Sick, sick, sick
It's sick, sick, sick
Sick, sick, sick
It's sick, sick, sick

Chorus:
You made a mess of things
My, what a mess you've made
I hate the way you make me feel
I hate the way you make me
In your world, it's cold outside
So button up and open wide
I hate the way you make me feel
Sick, sick, sick