Bdim7 x____x |||●|| |●|||| ||●|●| |||||| [VERSE] C/G F G I was living on the hill, F C/G By the water tower and hiking trails, F G When the big one hit I’d have a seat, F C/G To watch masters abandon their dogs and dogs run free, Em Bdim7 Am O baby it’s time to leave, G F C/G Take the van and the hearse down to New Orleans, Em Bdim7 Am Leave under the gaze of the billboard queens, G F C/G 5 foot chicks with parted lips selling sweatshop jeans. C/G F G These A phonies and their bullshit bands, F C/G Sound like dollar signs and Amy Grant, F G So reads the pulled quote from my last cover piece, F C/G Entitled "The Oldest Man in Folk Rock Speaks” Em Bdim7 Am You can hear it all over the airwaves, G F C/G The manufactured gasp of the final days, Em Bdim7 Am Someone should tell them ‘bout the time that they don’t have, G F C/G To praise the glorious future and the hopeless past.