The Decemberists - July july

^AThere ^Bis a r^Eoad t^Dhat meets the road That goes to my house ^AAnd ho^Bw the ^Egreen grows there

^AAnd we^B've go^Et spe^Dcial boots To beat the path to my house ^AAnd it^B's car^Eeful and it's careful when I'm there

^AAnd I ^Bsay yo^Eur un^Dcle was a crooked french canadian ^AAnd he^B was g^Eut-shot running gin

^AAnd ho^Bw his ^Eguts ^Dwere all suspended in his fingers ^Aand ho^Bw he h^Eeld 'em How he held 'em held 'em in

^F#mAnd ^Ethe water rolls down the drain ^F#mThe ^Ewater rolls down the drain O what ^Da lonely thing In a lo^Enely drain

^AJul^Dy J^Euly^D July ^AIt ^Dnev^Eer ^Dseemed so strange ^AJul^Dy J^Euly^D July ^AIt ^Dnev^Eer ^Dsee^Amed^D so^E st^Drange never seemed so strange

^AThis i^Bs the ^Estory^D of the road that goes to my house ^AAnd wh^Bat gho^Ests there do remain

^AAnd al^Bl the ^Etroug^Dhs that run the length and breadth of my house ^AAnd th^Be chic^Ekens how they rattle chicken chains

^AAnd we^B'll re^Emembe^Dr this when we are old and ancient ^AThough^B the s^Epecifics might be vague

^AAnd I'^Bll say^E your^D camisole was a sprightly light magenta ^AWhen i^Bn fact^E it was a nappy bluish grey

^F#mAnd ^Ethe water rolls down the drain ^F#mThe ^Eblood rolls down the drain O what ^Da lonely thing In a bl^Eood red drain

^AJul^Dy J^Euly^D July ^AIt ^Dnev^Eer ^Dseemed so strange ^AJul^Dy J^Euly^D July ^AIt ^Dnev^Eer ^Dsee^Amed^D so^E st^Drange never seemed so strange