Tall Tale Number 5

      C         G            F   
I was born on a Sunday, with 
        C
blood on my hands
     C            Am              
in a room full of phonographs and 
G
old electric fans
      C          G           
and I slept in a graveyard for 
  F            C
bicycles and cars
      C                  Am       
and I dreamed of distant scenery, 
      G
but I never strayed too far

          F            C
Because I do what they ask me
  F            C
I never run my mouth
           F                C
and by the time they turn against me
     G
I'll have them figured out

    C F          C
And I learned to lie
   C            F            C
By watching you turn to your enemies
        C            F           C
And the apple you've got in your eye
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       Am    F               G
Has become a stain you don't want

      C       G        F     
So I left the city as soon as I 
         C
could walk
        C                    
But the buildings loomed like 
 Am            G
sentinels; it wasn't what I thought
     C             G              
So I slept in your bathtub, while 
    F                C
you put your make-up on
       C           Am             
And I daydreamed about your lungs 
          G
'til your cigarettes were gone

      F              C
Now I roam because I have to
    F             C
I'm never welcome long
                 F            
And thought this road leads to 
   C
disaster
     G
I've always got my songs

    C F          C
And I learned to laugh
   C            F           
By watching you burn all your 
  C
photographs
           C              F  
And you're right that the good 
               C
things won't last
          Am                       
But these wars are never won by our
 G
 twiddling thumbs

        F             C           
Well, I did what they asked me: I 
F            C
never ran my mouth
           F                   C  
And by the time they turned 
        G
against me, I had them figured out
          F              C        
And now I roam because I have to: 
    F             C
I'm never welcome long
                F            
And though this road leads to 
    C           G
disaster, I've always got my songs

    C F          C
And I learned to die
   C            F             C
By watching you choke on your misery
           C        F            C
And if the apple is torn from my eye
        Am                    G   
I won't be alone, because I'm 
  C
going home