On All Fours

Am     577555
Cmaj7  8(10)(10)000

* harmonics
x muted note

Intro and verse pattern:

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Verse 1:
Three weeks and counting till he's 
on his way to France
Not a dime in his pocket but a 
ticket in his hand
He's a cynical bastard but there's 
hope in his eyes
It's ben a long time comin' spent a 
long time runnin' from his insides

Verse 2:
He tries hard to songwrite his way 
out of bed
But nothing tastes as clever as it 
sounded in his head
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He wants to get his teeth wet and 
sink his feet in
He should have billions of dollars 
'cuz every asshole's put two cents 
in

Chorus:
    Dsus2                          
And he writes the songs yeah he can
 Am                            
 say what he wants yeah he can be 
Cmaj7
who he wants to
And they say he's wrong but they 
keep tagging along yeah they can 
leave if they want to
And his way will never met yours
He's got the world on his back and 
watch him take it... on all fours

Verse 3:
Nine out of ten motherfuckers agree 
that his fucking foul language is a 
fucking travesty
But motherfucking fuck is just 
another fucking word
The idea a word is dirty is to him 
fucking absurd

Chorus

Bridge:

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And this world will soon be the 
death of him, and his voice will 
fade away
And his jeans will be all that's 
left of him, and they'll wonder if 
he was ok

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And the Alkies will say it was 
drinkin', and the preacher will say 
it was sin
And his mother will say he was 
thinkin' only of himself again
And the gays they will say it was 
straight people, and the straights 
will say it was AIDS
And he'll be in line at the gate, 
people still standing
In his way
In his way

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