The Tortured Poets Department
Recorded by Taylor Swift
Album: THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT* THE ANTHOLOGY (2024)

(Non Capo)

(Intro.)
|(C) / / / |(C) / / / |(C) / / / |(C) / / / |

(Verse 1)
(C) You left your typewriter at my apartment
(F) Straight from the tortured poets department
(C) I think some things I never say
(F) "Like who uses typewriters anyway?"
(Am) But you're in self-sabotage (G)mode
Throwing (G)spikes down on the road 
(C) But I've seen this episode and (F)still love the show
(Am)Who else de-(G)codes you?

(Chorus)
And (C)who's gonna hold you, like (F) me?
And (C)who's gonna know you, if not (F) me?
(F) I laughed in your face and said
(Am) "You're not Dylan Thomas, (G) I'm not Patti Smith
(C)This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, (F) we'rе modern idiots"
And (Am)who's gonna (G)hold you like (C) me?
No, no-(F)body, no, f**king (C)body, nobo-(F)dy

(Verse 2)
(C) You smokеd then ate seven bars of chocolate
(F) We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
(C) I scratch your head, you fall asleep, (F) like a tattooed golden retriever
(Am) But you awaken with dread, (G) pounding nails in your head
(C) But I've read this one where you (F)come undone
I (Am)chose this cy-(G)clone with you

(Chorus)
And (C)who's gonna hold you?
Like (F) me (Who's gonna hold you?)

And (C)who's gonna know you (Who's gonna hold you?) like (F) me?
(F) I laughed in your face and said
(Am) "You're not Dylan Thomas, (G) I'm not Patti Smith
(C)This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, (F)we'rе modern idiots"
And (Am)who's gonna (G)hold you?
Like (C) me (Who's gonna hold you?)
No, no-(F)body (Who's gonna hold you?)
No-(C)-body (Who's gonna hold you?)
No-(F)body (Who's gonna hold you?)

(Bridge)
(C) Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
(F) But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
(C) And I had said that to Jack about you so I felt seen
(F) Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
(C) Because we're cra-(F)-zy
So tell me (C) who else is gonna know (F) me?
At (Am)dinner you take my ring (G)off my middle finger
And put it on the (C) one people put wed-(F)ding rings on
And that's the (Am)closest I've come to my (G)heart exploding

(Chorus)
(C)Who's gonna hold you? (F) Me
(C)Who's gonna know you? (F) Me
(Am) And you're not Dylan Thomas, (G) I'm not Patti Smith
(C)This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, (F) we're two idiots
(Am)Who's gonna (G)hold (C)you?
(C)Who's gonna hold you?
Who's gonna hold you?
(F)Who's gonna hold you?
(F)Who's gonna hold you?
(C)Who's gonna hold you?
(C)Who's gonna hold you?
(F)Who's gonna hold you?
(F)Who's gonna hold you?
(C)Gonna know you?
(C)Gonna troll you?

(Outro.)
(Am) You left your (G)typewriter at my apartment
(C) Straight from the (F)tortured poets department
(Am)Who else de-(G)codes (C)you?
 / / / |(C) / / / |(F) / / / |(Am) / / / |(C) - - - - -