Am C GAm C G Lather was thirty years old today,Em D C they took away all of his toys.Am C G His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,Em D C about his old friends who'd stopped being boys.Em D F D There was Harwitz E. Green, just turned thirty three,Am Em D his leather chair waits at the bank.Em D F D And Sargent Dow Jones, twenty seven years old,Am Em D commanding his very own tank.C D Em But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do,C D Em to lie about nude in the sandContinúa después del anuncioC D Em Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps,D Am A and thrashing the air with his hands.A G But wait, oh Lather's productive you know,A G A he produces the finest of soundG Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose,A G A Am G D Am G D snorting the best licks in town;E but that's all overAm G D Am G DAm C G Lather was thirty years old today,Em D C and Lather came foam from his tongue.Am C G He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said,Em D C is it true that I'm no longer young? (mommy?)Em D F D And the children call him famous,Am Em D what the old men call insaneEm D F D And sometimes he's so nameless,Am Em D that he hardly knows which game to play;C which words to sayC D Em And I should have told him, "no, you're not old."C D Em D Am And I should have let him go on, smiling, baby wide.Am G D Am G D
Lather
Jefferson Airplane
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