Tonalité : C major•
Verse 1
C
F
Dm
F
C
F
This is a song
Am
I wrote for John Wayne,
Dm
F
C
I think. think it's a Western
F
number.
Dm
C
F
Dm
C
F
Well, the architect angel
Dm
held the straight Judah ranch
G
C
Dm
F
just a dirty mile down on the borderline
Dm
where he mastered blasting
Am
Dm
And hustled young cattle for slaughter,
C
F
And dated Judah's daughter.
Am
G
From the cellar ways to the attics,
F
C
And all across the plains,
Am
G
F
broke electric static of a religious strain
C
F
Am
Dm
and though he was not an addict
Am
C
Dm
C
F
he wore scars upon his veins
Am
Dm
Like a young girl holds her first pimp,
Am
C
Dm
C
F
he held his Bible limp.
Am
G
Oh, from desert bars and church bazaars,
F
C
the hungry slowly came.
Am
With vulgar faces
G
F
C
from vulgar places looking for a game.
F
Dm
With ivory gun handles
and chamber grease
Am
Dm
C
Am
F
in souped up hydroplanes,
Dm
with bullets burned from TV silver
Am
C
F
bearing great cowboys names.
Bb
Dm
Fourteen inches of gun barrel
F
C
and he was smoking from the lid.
Bb
Dm
Spurs on straight black boot heels,
he said,
uptown they call me the
G
Dm
G
Brooklyn Kid.
F
Dm
And in his lonely zenith, nightmares,
C
G
Dm
F
that's just what they did.
Am
With a holster slung low,
F
C
like a hot kid's sister.
F
Am
Dm
Tied tight to his leg like he was gonna do.
F
G
Am
He was stomping a step
F
C
he called the Brooklyn Twister.
F
Am
with six guns pumping
Dm
he was com ing through
G
Dm
and his tongue hung low
Am
Dm
in the sawdust scraping
C
across the plains
F
Dm
he crawled up outside the
Judah ranch
F
and started calling the
G
Am
an gel names.
F
Dm
Now the architect angel
stood in one hand a staff
C
Dm
F
and in the other a gun.
Dm
He held the staff high in the wind.
Am
Dm
C
F
The gun was like a piece in the sun.
Am
He started howling like a
G
monsoon wind.
F
C
Drew fast, and the job was done.
Dm
F
Am
Dm
That night, the moon stretched
F
Am
tight light down on the plains
C
Am
as real cowboys sat around
F
real campfire flames.
Dm
F
Dm
And the county wolf called as
Bb
Dm
Am
if to explain to his son,
Dm
F
Dm
G
C
Dm
oh, the way the West was won.
F
The way in the West was warm.
C
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