Tonalité : Bb major•
Verse 1
Bb
So what am I leading up to?
Well, how about some of
that early stuff?
How about Sunday morning,
coming down, stuff like that?
Could you do something from that era?
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
Eb
No weed
F
Bb
Hold my head that didn't hurt
Gm
The beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
F
So I had one more for dessert
Bb
Then I fumbled through my closet
Eb
for my clothes
Bb
Gm
and found my cleanest dirty shirt
Eb
I washed my face and combed my hair
Cm
and stumbled down the stairs
F
to meet the date
Bb
I'd smoke my brain the night before
Eb
on cigarettes and songs
Bb
that I'd been picking
But I lit my first
Gm
and watched the small kid crossin'
F
at a can that he was kickin'
Bb
Then I crossed the empty street
Eb
and caught the Sunday smell
Bb
Gm
of someone frying chicken
Eb
And it took me back to something
Cm
Eb
F
that I lost somehow somewhere
Bb
Eb
along the way
Bb
Eb
On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Bb
wishin' Lord that I was stoned.
Dm
Cause there's nothin' in a Sunday,
F
there's somethin' in a Sunday,
Bb
makes a body feel alone.
Eb
there ain't nothing short of dying
Bb
half as lonesome as the sound
F
on the sleeping city sidewalks
Eb
Dm
Sunday morning
F
Bb
coming down so naturally
F
Bb
I took myself down to the Tally Ho Tavern
Eb
F
Bb
to buy me a bottle of beer.
Eb
F
Bb
I sat me down by a tender
young maiden
Gm
Ab
F
whose eyes were as soft as her hair.
Bb
As I was searching from bottle to bottle
F
Bb
for something unfoolish to say,
Eb
that sil ver -tongued devil
F
Bb
Gm
just slipped from the shadows,
F
Bb
smilingly stole her away.
F
I said, hey, little girl,
Eb
Bb
F
Bb
don't you know he's the devil?
He's everything that I ain't.
F
Eb
Bb
Gm
Hiding intentions of evil inten tions
Cm
C
F
under the smile of a saint.
Eb
Bb
All he's good for is getting in trouble
Eb
F
And shifting his share of the blame
Bb
Eb
Bb
Some people swear he's my double
Gm
C
F
Some even say we're the same
Eb
But the silver -tongued devil's
Bb
got nothing to lose
Eb
Bb
I'll only live till I die
F
Eb
We take our own chances
Bb
Gm
and pay our own due.
F
Chances are different these days.
The dues are different,
F
Bb
F
F
too. I was thinking of that when I saw Bobby Newarth,
the original Silver Tongue Devil,
F
that night.
Gm
What a long way we have come.
F
And it's a sadder world.
C
F
Because the very thing that's propelling
C
F
most of us around the planet
are things we can't even fool
with anymore.
C
Without wearing a wetsuit.
F
Thus, the silver tongue
Bb
dilled the night.
There's one for Bobby, for all of us.
F
See him wasted on the sidewalk
Bb
in his jacket and his jeans
Eb
Wearing yesterday's misfortunes
Bb
like a smile
Eb
Once he had a future
Bb
full of money,
Gm
love and dreams
C
Which he spent like they was going
F
out of style
Bb
And he keeps right on a -changin'
for the better or the worse
Eb
F
Searching for a shrine
Bb
he's never found
Eb
Never knowing if believing
Bb
is a blessing or a curse
Eb
F
Bb
Or if going up was worth coming down
Eb
He's a poet, he's a picker
Bb
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
F
He's a pilgrim man to preach
And a problem when he's stoned
Bb
Eb
He's a walking contradiction
Bb
Partly truth, mostly fiction
F
Takin' every wrong direction
On his lonely way back home
Bb
Thank you
There you go.
Thank you. Thanks. Thank you.
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsBb Eb F Gm Cm...
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