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Capo: 1
Okay, I had this all tabbed out and then due to UG's shitty design I previewed it then went back and magically deleted it all. incredible. So here it is rougher than it was the first time round. Chorus chords where the vocal melody climbs im not 100% sure on, post revisions as comments please. Standard Tuning CAPO 1
AThree brides before breakfast. ThF#mese rails just wrecked us. BmMy right hand on my heart while my Dleft hand sEnaps your necklace.
AEach day gets a little more scary. F#mWe're holding on, in a way, but just barely. BmMoms and Dads are rationing their cDash for the coEmmissary.
But DI can't sEtart without C#mgoing F#mall the Bmway - it's a Dhabit someone Egave me. The Anursemaid of the blank page. A caF#mnary of the American eclipse. A proDfiteer picking up pEink slips.
AThis wish just to go back, hey... whF#men I know wasn't ever, ever happy! BmShow me my best memory - it's pDrobably sEuper crappy. ANine years down in Texas, with F#msluts of both sexes, Bmliars, lumps, and drug addicts, and dDrunks; I loEve my friends,
but DI can't sEtop without C#mgoing F#mall the Bmway, and I've Dbeen that way since E'83. AThe midwife of the jetlife. Oh,F#m genie with a golden spliff. A Dprostitute paid in Epink slips.
AI crashed my Cadillac in the valley of mirrors. WF#mhen the call came, there was nobody here. BmWhen they came from the communists, I kissed them on the lips. Then they Dcame for the singers, in a Ehaze of pink slips.
AI guess I was just dreaming and drifting, F#martificially lifted. BmOnly happy until the age of Dten is still a gEift,
but Dwe can't go Eback to those C#m &quF#mot;22Bm7" days. It's just a dDream we all were Ehaving. AHey, mariner in the dirt trade. Oh, poF#mstman of the post-apocalypse - from ADcademy Awards to pinEk slips!
AAnd I showered my Corvette with Moët for years, but now I'm sF#mtanding in the rain drinking the champagne of beers. They say, Bm"Who's that shadow sneaking off behind the pier' He was rDushed and then he was rattled, but now he's finEally in the clear to be a
Arefugee from the rat race, in his white tF#muxedo and his sad-face. A Bmmusic group that your dad plays, siDnging songs about autEumn days. AHe's the laureate of the Granite State, andF#m now he doesn't even write, he just riffs. And they'll cDover up his coffin with pinEk slips."