Jellyfish - Russian hill

^FM7I dreamt about a tranquil ^F7Sunday drive, A sensory ^F6lullaby ^{F7 FM7}We trade the comics, cartoons and ^F7magazines, for pistons and ^F6gasoline ^{F7 FM7}We see the road from the bedside, ^F7parked under the sunshine,^F6 we feel the warmth of the engine so we ^F7climb inside and take it to the mo^G7torway

^DmWatch the clouds turn^Dm7 into ^Dm6faces, it's ^G7fun to play ^DmShift the gears for ^Dm7years and^Dm6 age a ^G7single day ^BbM7Until we spill onto ^FM7Russian Hill

^FM7Past cathedrals filled with God's ^F7favourite guests, dirty hands feel ^F6clean when dressed in their ^F7Sunday best ^FM7Treeline village, oh, so ^F7heavenly, cross a bridge of ^F6gold to landscapes of ^F7juniper, only Eden is for ^G7millionaires

^DmWatch the clouds turn^Dm7 into ^Dm6faces, it's ^G7fun to play ^DmShift the gears for ^Dm7years and ^Dm6age a s^G7ingle day ^BbM7Until we spill onto ^FM7Russian Hill

^FM7I'm pulling through the last stoplight^F7 we head home past the shoreline, ^F6and through the rear view mirror it all ^F7melts away 'til we're ^G7helpless

^DmWatch the clouds turn^Dm7 into ^Dm6faces, it's ^G7fun to play ^DmShift the gears for ^Dm7years and ^Dm6age a ^G7single day ^DFor like curtains c^Dm7lose this ^Dm6sunset ^G7matinee ^BbM7A dream fulfilled on ^FM7Russian Hill