调：Bb major
Verse 1
A
Em
A
Em
Patching the roof and pitching the hay
A
F#m
D
Is not my idea of a perfect day
A
G
F
Eb
ary things
A
Em
A
I'm not the type who loses sleep
Em
A
F#m
D
Over the size of the compost heap
A
Bm
A
ary things
A
Bm
E
A
The kind of man who dwells
B
C#m
Ddim
B
On how moths got into the tapestry
E
Bm
Em
D
Or why the dungeon smells
C
A
Em
Oh, it's hard to feel special,
A
G
F#m
Feeding the turtle and
E
D
Bm
E
F#m
B
Ex traordinary like me
F#m
G
And the griffin keeps losing its hair
D
F
Am
F
If the west wing is rotting
And our best wine is clotting
G
A
D
All of his life in superlatives
Bm
E
Am
You gotta do extraordinary things
A
G
A
D
F
E
Bm
E
A
F
C
F
Every so often a man has a day
B
C#m
Ddim
B
Well, here I am to seize my day
and give me my wings
And don't make me think about
E
D
Bb
Extraordinary
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调音器E A D G B E
和弦A Em F#m D E...
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