#A simple version
Am
Black flies on the windowsill
Am
That we are
Am
That we are
Am F
That we are to know
F Am
Winter stole summer's thrill
F
And the river's cracked and cold
Am
See the sky is no man's land
F
A darkened plume to stay
Am
Hope here needs a humble hand
F
Not a fox found in your place
Am C F
No man is an island this I know
Am
But can't you see
Am C F
Maybe you were the ocean when I was just a stone
Am
Black flies on the windowsill
Am
That we are
Am
That we are
Am F
That we are to hold
F Am
Comfort came against my will
F
And every story must grow old
Am
Still I'll be a traveller
F
A gypsy's reins to face
Am
But the road is wearier
F
With that fool found in your place
Am C F
No man is an island this I know
Am
But can't you see
Am C F
Maybe you were the ocean when I was just a stone