キー: F major•
Verse 1
Hear the sad horns of labor trucks sigh.
My neighbor walks by,
Like half- a- proud
Horse down Brook.
I hear somebody's
Babbling I mistook
Whispering "victory"
To the sparks in their kindling.
But all their green woods
By the gases of flame,
Pressing against the pending
Physics of my passed down last
Two spaces, condemned;
In one of the many places
You're not, I am.
Dm
Am
In the bathroom at 'ThriftTown'
Interlude 1
F
C
Am
Bb
Verse 2
after lunch,
I got sick and blew chunks
All over my new shoes
In a lot behind 'Whole Foods'.
And what about losing
Limb or loved one in a duel
As a kid I did not shit my
pants much;
Why start now with this stuff?
Gets bit by a dog or Jeff Dahmer.
Kisses or stitches?
No mitt for these pitches.
Master of the cheap pun.
If I'm not raw,
I'm just a bit underdone.
Am
Dm
Am
Dm
But I'd be O.K., cool as a rail,
Am
Dm
If they'd just let us have
Interlude 2
F
C
Am
C
Dm
Am
Dm
Am
Verse 3
ground radiation
And the black arts of waiting.
Not the same since
I switched my hair-
Part and started shaving.
My hidden hair- gone corners.
Oh, I'll never be a joiner,
Life long local foreigner, I.
In coed naked choir;
Second tenor, highest rise,
I'll be proudly mouthing
'Watermelon' every song.
I put the phone to my ear
But all I hear's a dial tone.
And wrap my bones
When my wig is gone?
No. I'll go unknown
By torpedo or Crohn's,
Am
Dm
Only those evil live to see
Dm
Outro 1
Am
Bb
F
Dm
Am
Dm
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