Pink Floyd
Am, C, D, G
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from hell
Blue skies from pain
Can you tell the green field
From the coast to the rim
The smile from fail
Do you think you can tell
Did they get you to trade your egos for ghosts?
High ashes for trees, high air for a cool breeze, gold cup for change?
Did you experience a walk on blood in a war, or a vehicle in a cage?