One Hundred Years

(words by Robert Smith, music by Simon Gallup, Laurence Tolhurst, and

Robert Smith)

-Pornography- opens up with this cool anti-God-given-anything-good song.

I was too lazy to put the chords over the words but here is the riff

nonetheless:

E ------------|------------|------------|-----4--3--4-3-|

B ------------|------------|------------|---------------|

G -7/\/\/\/\/-|-7/\/\/\/\/-|-7/\/\/\/\/-|-4-------------|

D ------------|------------|------------|---------------|

A ------------|------------|------------|---------------|

E ------------|------------|------------|---------------|

If you have heard the song before, I am sure you know what 7/\/\/\/ means.

To play that you just have to repeatedly bend the note 1/2 step up and

down. And I think you strike the note a couple times in the measure (say

around four times- I have not transcribed it that way). You will notice

that the song goes from Cm to B. If I wanted to be technical, for the

fourth measure I would have wrote B, Bsus6, Bsus#5, Bsus6 over the 4--3-4

notes on the high E string but I am not going to.

That is the main riff. For the lyrics such as "waiting for the death blow",

"just like the old days" and "one after the other", a Bb chord is played.

For the "a hundred years" part, Gb is played and then the song goes back to

Cm to B. That is basically it. Here are the lyrics:

It doesn't matter if we all die

Ambition in the back of a black car

In a high building there is so much to do

Going home time

A story on the radio

Something small falls out of your mouth

And we laugh

A prayer for something better

A prayer for something better

Please love me

Meet my mother

But the fear takes hold

Creeping up the stairs in the dark

Waiting for the death blow

Waiting for the death blow

Waiting for the death blow

Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot

Fighting for freedom on the television

Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs

Have we got everything?

She struggles to get away

The pain and the creeping feeling

A little black haired girl

Waiting for Saturday

The death of her father pushing her

Pushing her white face into the mirror

Aching inside me

And turn me around

Just like the old days

Just like the old days

Just like the old days

Just like the old days

Caressing an old man

And painting a lifeless face

Just a piece of new meat in a clean room

The soldiers close in under a yellow moon

All shadows and deliverance

Under a black flag

A hundred years of blood

Crimson

The ribbon tightens round my throat

I open my mouth

And my head bursts open

A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water

Thrashing in the water

Over and over

We die one after the other

Over and over

We die one after the other

One after the other

One after the other

One after the other

One after the other

It feels like a hundred years

A hundred years

A hundred years

A hundred years

A hundred years

One hundred years