Byrds - Eight miles high

^EmEight miles ^Ghigh^D, and when you ^Ctouch down. ^G You'll find that, ^Dit's stranger ^Cthan known. ^EmSign's in the ^Gstreet,^D that say where ^Cyou're going. ^G Are somewhere, ^Djust being ^Ctheir own.

^EmNowhere ^Gis,^D there warmth to ^Cbe found. ^G Among those ^Dafraid, of losing ^Ctheir ground. ^EmRain grey ^Gtown,^D known for ^Cit's sound. ^G In places^D, small faces ^Cunbound.

^EmRound the ^Gsquares^D, huddled ^Cin storms. ^G Some laughing^D, some just shapeless ^Cforms. ^EmSidewalk ^Gscenes^D, and black limo^Cusines. ^G Some living^D, some just stand ^Calone.