David Bowie 8 Line Poem

Tom: C F / C F C / D / E E7 F C F C / F C / E / F D / G F / C Tactful cactus by your / window / surveys the prairie of your/ room/ C (continued from above / F / C / F / The mobile spins to its/ collision / Clara puts her head between her / Paws / They?ve opened shops down on the/ Westside / Will all the cacti find a/ home? / But the key to the /city is in/ the sun that pins the branches to the/ sky oh / C F C F / C F C / F C