[Intro]
G#m C# F# D#m
G#m C# F# D#m
G#m C# F# D#m
 
[Verse 1]
G#m                      C#
   You've got to get out son
    F#                                     D#m            G#m
You got your back against the wall and the end has just begun
         C#               F#                      D#m             G#m
And this place, there's a hundred strangers and I hardly know one face
      C#      F#          D#m
And I sold my soul to the night
      B
I'm a waste of time
B               C#
Yet I've got to try
 
[Chorus]
      F#       G#m   D#m           C#
We're all worrying, about the same things
    F#           G#m         D#m   C#
The end cannot begin at the start
      F#       G#m   D#m           C#
We're all worrying, about the same things
    B                        C#
The end cannot begin at the start
 
[Intro]
G#m C# F# D#m
G#m C# F# D#m
 
[Verse 2]
G#m                    C#
   Spit your words out son
      F#                             D#m            G#m
They cling to your lips like they're trying to hold on
      C#                F#           D#m            G#m
And I like to tread the boards of avenues with open eyes
        C#       F#         D#m
But I'm fine, my head isn't there
        B
And I'm losing out but
    B             C#
I'm trying not to care
 
[Chorus]
      F#       G#m   D#m           C#
We're all worrying, about the same things
    F#           G#m         D#m   C#
The end cannot begin at the start
      F#       G#m   D#m           C#
We're all worrying, about the same things
    B                        C#
The end cannot begin at the start
 
[Outro]
G#m C# F# D#m
G#m C# F# D#m
              You've got to get out, son
You got your back against the wall, and the end has just begun
And this place, there's a hundred strangers and I hardly know one face

And I sold my soul to the night
And a waste of time, but yet I've got to try

We're all worrying about the same things
The end cannot begin at the start
Yeah, we're all worrying about the same things
The end cannot begin at the start

Spit your words out, son
They cling to your lips like they're trying to hold on
And I like to tread the boards of avenues with open eyes

But I'm fine, my head isn't there
I'm losing out, but I'm trying not to care

We're all worrying about the same things
The end cannot begin at the start
Yeah, we're all worrying, about the same things
The end cannot begin at the start              
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