Life On The Run

A
Home alone with philip roth, and a 
sweater I got from H and moth

Its the first day of summer and I 
got me a fever, and a messaage from 
turner and he says

D                           A
"Ivar, c'est bon man", I live the 
life of a raconteur,
E                                
I play guitar and I go on tour, 
D                                 
it doesn’t matter that I am poor  
   A
I’m a king man

A
16 sharks in a tidal wave, cant even
 look at a blade so I never shave,

I get irrational fears and timidity,
 and cold cold sweat from anxiety,

D                                
man I’m feeling like a batman, I’m 
A
feeling like superman,
E                                 
I’m feeling like a man whos got to
           D                   
 hide everything he is from the 
                         A
world outside and its not cool

A
I bruised a muscle and I broke my 
jaw, Im being hassled by the godamn 
law,

they get away with murder and racial
 wars and I’m just watching louis 
free of charge.
              D                    
I’ve been chasing my tail and they 
     A
open my mail,
Continúa después del anuncio
E                             
they want my ass in jail and it 
  D                       A
seems unfair its out there

A
I got a girl and she is dope, for my
 birthday she bought me a telescope,

she says its for the eclipse, its 
for the moon and the sun, I watch 
the people on the street its a lot 
more fun.
                   D             
See Im a bit of a dwyer, or maybe 
           A
weirdly wired.
  E                           
I rule the city from a rocking 
           D                       
chair, state qualities lasez faire 
                 A
but its out there


D              E                 
See I can’t settle down, I go 
     A                   D        
crazy when I stay in town, I only 
    E                  A
come to life on the run.
D         E          A           
Put me on a plane man, on a bus 
  D                 D       
or on a train man, and in the 
        E           A
morning I’ll be gone.

A
Fake ids and a real moustache, 
marijuana from a private stash. See 
I never get high but I’ll give it a 
try man,
                              D    
I’m going legal in californ-I-A I’m
          A          E
 on my way. With a fist full of sand
 and an old palm tree,
D                                 
I close my eyes and I then I count
               A
 to three and its all right

A
I dig the beatles and I dig the 
blues, the moldy peaches and the 
silver jews,

I can never imagine what my life 
would be if I hadn’t always have Bob
 Dylan with me.

D                                 
I mean everything he wrote, man 
  A
I’m strung out on heroes

E
My friend Jeff Lewis says songs 
about songwriting suck
D                                 
so I won’t even mention the 
              A
writers block I go through 
sometimes.

D                    E            
See I can’t settle down, I go 
 A              D            D   
crazy when I stay in town, I only
        E              A
 come to life on the run.
D          E              A     
Put me on a boat man, on a horse
           D        D       
 or on a goat man, and in the 
  E          A
morning I’ll be gone.
D           E            A
In the morning I’ll be gone.
D            E           A
In the morning I’ll be gone.
D           E              A
 In the morning I’ll be gone gone 
gone gone gonnnnnne.