You’re just a small

bump un (Em)born in four months you’re (F)brought to life.

You might be (Am)left with my (Em)hair, but you’ll have your (F)moth er’s eyes.

I’ll hold your bod (Am)y in my hands, be as gen (C)tle as I can, but for now you’re a scan of my un made plans.

Just a small bump, in four months you’re (F)brought to life.

And I’ll whis per (Dm)qui et ly

and give you (F)noth ing but truth.

If you’re not in (Dm)side me,

I’ll put my (F)fu ture in you.

You are my one

and on ly

and you can wrap your fing ers ’round my thumb

and hold me tight.

You are my one

and on ly.

You can wrap your fin gers ’round my thumb

and hold me tight

and you’ll be al right.

’Cause you were just a (Am)small bump, un born for four months, then torn from (C)life.

May be you were (Am)need ed up there but we’re still un a (F)ware as (C)why.