Pay Grade

Dm                                
You call me every night and tell 
                     Am
me that you feel like shit
I say "I'm sorry, is there any way I
               Dm
 can help with it?"
I listen to you scream the world is 
               Am
simply your enemy
With death and taxes what's the 
                    Dm
point of tryna be happy

Dm
And I've had bad days bad years

Bad boys and bad careers
Am
But I'm still standing here
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   G
I understand you darling but at the 
end of the day
Dm
You just won't help yourself

Rather give someone else
Am
A glimpse into your hell
G
Pour all your problems on 'em

Just so you can walk away

Dm
Boy I'm too young
            Gm7
To be your mother
          Dm
Not smart enough
                      Gm7
To be your therapist either
                Dm
And I'm always here if you needa 
talk
          Gm7
But maybe first you should talk a 
walk
               Dm
'Cause I'm not gonna make you change
       Gm7
That's above my pay grade babe