Wind's Dark Poem

THERE ARE LITTLE BITS IN THE VERSES SOMETIMES HERE THEY ARE: (1) e|--| b|--| g|-3|---slight bend on the g string d|4-| a|--| e|--| (2) e|--| b|--| g|-4--3-|---go ahead and whack a slight bend on these too d|--| a|--| e|--| I WILL REFER TO THEM BELOW AS (1) AND (2) IT IS THE EASIEST WAY I COULD THINK TO DO IT The intro is a frantically picked Abm for about 30 seconds, then this happens: e|-| b|---509:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)| g|-9--811-8--609:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)| d|---609:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)--609:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)| a|-7--6--609:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)9--6--409:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)| e|---409:30, August 5, 2020 (UTC)| Carry on frantically picking C#m for a while, then two single massive strums of Abm, and then... Abm                 B ...voice of wind, the air in the branches (1)      E                   Abm Sounded like words, whispering a spell on me (2)    E Until I heard Abm Now I see shapes in the low light B The earth quakes in the twilight C#m I see flames in my calm life E Hear the wind's dark poem (((frantic Abm picking with violent wind, if there is some nearby))) Abm You can see from above, the rocks sticking out of    B                                      (1) the yard behind the house make stone constellations, E                                       Ebm      Ebm7 half-buried in the dusk, the unformed stories Abm coming to life while I sleep. B The breath moves branches saying words that I don't know, (1) E a new poem,         a song I sang in a dream. Ebm                  Ebm7 The lights of town faint, Abm something is exhaling in the sound of traffic far away. B                            (1) Something is happening. Wind's dark poem describes, E                                              Ebm          Ebm7 calligraphy of branches writes, stone constellation alive. Abm                  B The house is built on a boulder, soil returns to the wind. (1) Bones will blow in pink light. E   The distant sound is saying my name, Ebm                    Ebm7 the wind is taking pieces. Abm                                          Abm Wind's dark poem is about the constantly roaring decay F#5 The destruction of every day, and every morning's waking. (((stop playing, sing against the gentle hum of silence))) But even as spring is bringing blossoms back among leaves, the cold wind blows when night falls, and the bare branches bend. (((gentle hum of silence becomes tidal wave of sound))) (((end)))