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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.
This is my interpretation of the song Armchairs by Andrew Bird. It's different than how
he plays it on Armchair Apocrypha but I think it works and sounds nice particularly
if you don't want to fingerpick!
I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
Of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
Of the tangles in your hair
I sang the song that silence brings
It's the one that everybody knows
Yah everybody knows the song that silence sings
And this is how it goes
These looms that weave apocrypha
They're hanging from a strand
These dark and empty rooms are full
Of incandescent hands
Awkward pause
Fatal flaws
And time it's a crooked bow
Time’s a crooked bow
In time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps and pull like hell
Till gravity feels sorry for you and lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know
The way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this low
Time time it’s a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Oh
Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of this gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah this armchair calls to you
And it says I think someday
We'll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
Through the ragweed and barbed wire
You didn't write
You didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all
Through the waves
The waves of AM squall
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time
Time
Time
(moins de barrés)