Bdim7
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[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.
