The Doll People Sofia Isella

The Doll People

Sofia Isella

Sarah Price

166
0:00 2:37
Afinación Estándar (E A D G B E)
Compás 12/8
Tonalidad: Em
Cejilla:
Sin cejilla
Rasgueo 1

Whole song: ↓ · ↓ ↑ · ↓ ↑ · ↓ ↑ · ↑ · · · ·

Letra

[Intro]
| Emadd11 | - | - | - |

[Verse 1]
    Emadd11
The doll   people are not men
They are made of ass and glass
    D6add9
Our skin  is clay and painted blue
Our head can detach
       Asus2
We are statues with a pulse
                   Emadd11
We are art you can fuck   
The doll people are quiet
What is there to say
   D6add9
Art      does not interpret itself
There are men with a day to save
       Asus2
We are paintings with legs
                   Emadd11
We are art you can fuck   

[Chorus]
Em
Drink the dolls
Legs spread like butter
       G
We are wife, whore, mistress, maid,
mother
    Amadd9
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
  B7
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
that does
Emadd11
Wife,  whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother

[Verse 2]
    Emadd11
The doll   people are alive
Or so they say
You can never trust
Never trust the art these days
        Asus2
To be admired takes precedence over admiring
        B7
To be desired takes importance over desiring

[Chorus]
Em
Drink the dolls
Legs spread like butter
       G
We are wife, whore, mistress, maid,
mother
    Amadd9
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
  B7
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
         Em
that does

[Bridge]
Paint popping off of us like rockets
                      G
Stepped right out of a fantasy,
the words still stuck to our pockets
    Amadd9
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
  B7
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
     E   G Am7 E G Am7
that does

[Verse 3]
Emadd11    Emadd11
       The doll   people are gone
They don't know what happened
They looked under our skirts one morning
But all they saw were maggots
They bang their head on the wall
They fucked the art on that afternoon
The dolls are off running and laughing together
Swimming in the milk of the moon
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother

Compases

[Intro]
| Emadd11 | - | - | - |

[Verse 1]
| Emadd11 | - | D6add9  | - |
| Asus2   | - | Emadd11 | - |
| -       | - | D6add9  | - |
| Asus2   | - | Emadd11 | - |

The doll   people are not men
They are made of ass and glass
Our skin  is clay and painted blue
Our head can detach
We are statues with a pulse
We are art you can fuck
The doll people are quiet
What is there to say
Art      does not interpret itself
There are men with a day to save
We are paintings with legs
We are art you can fuck

[Chorus]
| Em      | - | G  | - |
| Amadd9  | - | B7 | - |
| Emadd11 | - | -  | - |
| -       | - |

Drink the dolls
Legs spread like butter
We are wife, whore, mistress, maid,
mother
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
that does
Wife,  whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother

[Verse 2]
         | Emadd11 | - |
| -  | - | Asus2   | - |
| B7 | - |

The doll   people are alive
Or so they say
You can never trust
Never trust the art these days
To be admired takes precedence over admiring
To be desired takes importance over desiring

[Chorus]
         | Em     | - |
| G  | - | Amadd9 | - |
| B7 | - | Em     | - |

Drink the dolls
Legs spread like butter
We are wife, whore, mistress, maid,
mother
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
that does

[Bridge]
| G   | - | Amadd9 | - |
| B7  | - | E      | G |
| Am7 | - | E      | G |
| Am7 | - |

Paint popping off of us like rockets
Stepped right out of a fantasy,
the words still stuck to our pockets
The beauty and the buyer,
take the screaming one because
A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than the one
that does

[Verse 3]
        | Emadd11 | - |
| - | - | Emadd11 |

The doll   people are gone
They don't know what happened
They looked under our skirts one morning
But all they saw were maggots
They bang their head on the wall
They fucked the art on that afternoon
The dolls are off running and laughing together
Swimming in the milk of the moon
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother
Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother

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