Ben Folds - Late

^Dm Under some ^Fdirty words on a ^Bbdirty wall, ^C eating ^Ftake-out by ^Bbmyself. ^Gm I played the ^Cshows, ^Gmgot back in the ^Cvan and put the ^Bbwalkman on, and ^Bbyou were playing. ^Dm Some other ^Fdive 1,000 ^Bbmiles away, ^C I've played ^F1,000 times be^Bbfore, ^Gm like pathetic^C stars, the ^Gmtruck stops, and the ^Crock club walls I al^Bbways knew. You s^Bbaw them too...

But you never will^F again ^C It's too la^Gmte. ^Bb Ahh, don't you ^Fknow It's been t^Coo late, for a l^Bbong time.

^Dm Elliot ^Fman, you played a fine ^Bbguitar ^C and some ^Fdirty ^Bbbasketball. ^Gm The songs you ^Cwrote ^Gmgot me a ^Clot, just want to ^Bbtell you that.

But it's too ^Flate, ^C it's too ^Bblate. Nah, don't you ^Fknow it's been ^Ctoo late for a ^Bblong time.

^GmOh ^Cno, ^Fthings were looking ^Bbup, least that's what ^GmI he^Bbard. ^GmOh ^Cno, ^Fsomeone came and ^Bbwashed away your ^Gmhard-earned ^Apeace of ^Dmmind.

^Dm When desperate ^Fstatic beats the ^Bbsilence up, ^C And quiet ^Ftruth to calm you ^Bbdown, ^Gm The songs you ^Cwrote, they ^Gmgot me through a ^Clot, Just want to ^Bbtell you that.

But it's too ^Flate, ^C it's too ^Bblaaaaaate. Nah, don't you ^Fknow it's been ^Ctoo late for a ^Bblong time.

It's too ^Flaaaaaate. It's too ^Bblaaaaaate. No, don't you ^Fknow, it's been ^Ctoo late for a ^Bblong time.