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Mathilda by Little Comets
Mathilda
Standard Tuning.
h - hammer on
p - pull off
b - bend string up
r - release bend
/ - slide up
\ - slide down
v - vibrato (sometimes written as ~)
t - tap (with strumming hand)
x - mute string
Intro/Verse
'Oh decry, with these two fingers I can show you why'
Bm A Bm F#m
E|----7-----5-----7------2--------------|
B|----7-----5-----7------2--------------|
G|----7-----6-----7------2--------------|
D|----9-----7-----9------4--------------|
A|----9-----7-----9------4--------------|
E|----7-----5-----7------2--------------|
The chords for the chorus are exactly the same, but for the F#m chord play:
E|----9-----|
B|----10----|
G|----11----|
D|----11----|
A|----9-----|
E|----9-----|
'Ayyy'
A F#m
E|-----5-------9-----|
B|-----5-------10----|
G|-----6-------11----|
D|-----7-------11----|
A|-----7-------9-----|
E|-----5-------9-----|
Outro
F#m E C#m Bm A
E|-----9-------7------9-------7-------5----|
B|-----10------9------9-------7-------5----|
G|-----11------9------9-------7-------6----| (x2)
D|-----11------9------11------9-------7----|
A|-----9-------7------11------9-------7----|
E|-----9-------7------9-------7-------5----|
Oh, decry with these two fingers
I can show you why
That I'm restricted
When you kiss me so promiscuously
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
Oh delay without these shackles
I can show the way to make you obfuscate
And push aside utensils
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
Straight to his pillow
Which frowns as she strikes it
With fists that insist
The light of their fridge door
Was always a metaphor
I'm bewildered
So please explain to me right now Mathilda
How all the friction in your diction
Leaves me staring at you
I'm still screaming go-tilly-go
I'll decide, with these two fingers
I can show you why
Despite my lethargy and mispronunciation
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
Straight to his pillow
Which frowns as she strikes it
With fists that insist
The light of their fridge door
Was always a metaphor
Ay
Promises
The promises
Promises
(Sick of)
The promises
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