The Tortured Poets Department taby ukulele według Taylor Swift (Chwyty barytonu)

[Intro] D

[Verse 1]
C
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
F
 Straight from the tortured poets department
C
 I think some things I never say
F
 Like, "Who uses typerwriters anyway?"
Am                           G
 But youʼre in self-sabotage mode
                             C
 Throwing spikes down on the road
                       F
 But Iʼve seen this episode and still love the show
 Am         C
 Who else decodes you?

[Chorus]
C                          F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?
C                              F
 And whoʼs gonna know you, if not me?

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                         C
 "Youʼre not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"
                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?

[Post-Chorus]
   C
 Nobody
            F
 No-fucking-body
   F
 Nobody

[Verse 2]
C
 You smoked, then ate seven bars of chocolate
F
 We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
C
 I scratch your head, you fall asleep
F
 Like a tattooed golden retriever
Am                   G
 But you awaken with dread 
                       C
Pounding nails in your head
                       F
 But Iʼve read this one where you come undone
   Am           C
 I chose this cyclone with you

[Chorus]
C                          F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me? 

(Whoʼs gonna hold you? Whoʼs gonna hold you?)
C                          F
 And whoʼs gonna know you like me? 

(Whoʼs gonna know you?)

 I laughed in your face and said,
Dm                        C    
 "Youʼre not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"
                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you like me?

(Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?)

[Post-Chorus]
C          
 No-fucking-body

(Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?)
   F
 Nobody

(Who's gonna hold you? Gonna know you? Gonna troll you?)
   F
 Nobody

[Bridge]
C
 Sometimes, I wonder if youʼre gonna screw this up with me
F
 But you told Lucy youʼd kill yourself if I ever leave
C
 And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen
F
 Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
C              F
 ʼCause weʼre crazy
            C                    F
 So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
    Am                             G
 At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger
                   C              F
 And put it on the one people put wedding rings on
                Am                   G
 And thatʼs the closest Iʼve come to my heart exploding

[Chorus]
C                           F
 And whoʼs gonna hold you? (Who?)

Me
C                           F
 And whoʼs gonna know you? (Who?)

Me
 Dm                          C
 And youʼre not Dylan Thomas, Iʼm not Patti Smith
F                             C
 This ainʼt the Chelsea Hotel, weʼre two idiots
                 G
 And whoʼs gonna hold you?

[Post-Chorus]
C
Who's gonna hold you?

Who's gonna hold you?
F
Who's gonna hold you?

Who's gonna hold you?
C
Who's gonna hold you?

Who's gonna hold you?
F
Who's gonna hold you?

Gonna know you? Gonna troll you?

[Outro]
Am             G
 You left your typerwriter at my apartment
 C                           F
 Straight from the tortured poets department
Am          G            C   F
 Who else decodes you?

C F C F