E|-----------------------| F#m C#m Lately, I've been cruel to my baby F#m C#m She asks if I'm hers and I only say maybe F#m C#m Playing the fool, who knows nothing about love F#m A B E I act like I doubt it, but I'm nothing without it A B If I should leave you, darling you would know E That I'm chasing the only game in town F#m That's running itself right back into the ground A And I won't be too old, when the story is told B E Of a man who was wrong F#m C#m 'Cause I know, you belong in the churchyard F#m C#m Growing flowers, writing home on a postcard F#m C#m And its ok to belong to the old times F#m A B E Making crochet, tying knots in the clothesline A B And if I should leave you, darling you would know E E7 That I'm chasing the only game in town F#m That's running itself right back into the ground A And I won't be too old, when my story is told B E Of a man who was wrong F#m C#m x3 F#m A B E F#m C#m 'Cause he barks like a hounddog in moonlight F#m C#m Yes, he barks on and on, but he don't bite F#m C#m 'Cause it don't pay to stand up to the uptight F#m A B E It's the cowards that are fighting the good fight A B If I should leave you, darling you would know E E7 That on that day when I'm not around F#m I must be asleep like a stone in the ground A And I'll be a hundred years old when the story is told B E Of a man who was wrong Riff e|E|-----------------------|E|-----------------------|---| B|E|-----------------------|E|-----------------------|---| G|---------6-5-4-3-2-1~---------------6-5-4-3-2-1--| D|--4E|-----------------------|4----------------------| A|----4E|-----------------------|4-0-4----------------| E|E|-----------------------|E|-----------------------|---| F#m C#m When my soul breaks, and my heart stops it's beating F#m C#m And my body lies wounded and bleeding F#m C#m When the vulture starts in on its feeding F#m A B E And all of my seconds stop their constant repeating A B If I should leave you, where would I go E E7 Theres only one other bed in this town F#m It sits like a tree in a hole in the ground A Ill be a hundred years gone, but the story goes on B Of a man who was wrong A Ill be a hundred years gone, but the story goes on B E Of a man who was wrong