Inner City Blues

Intro:
E, Em, A Etc.


Verse:
E                                 
Going down a dirty inner city side
         A
 road, I plotted
E                                 
Madness passed me by, she smiled 
      A
hi, I nodded
E                              B5
Looked up as the sky began to 
          E
cry, she shot it
E                           A    
Meet a girl from Dearborn, early 
                               E
six o-clock this morn, a cold fact
A                                 
Asked about her bag, suburbia's 
                      E
such a drag, wont go back


Chorus:
G                         D       
'Cos Papa don't allow no new ideas
 A      E
 round here
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G                                 
And now he sees the news, but the 
  D      A        E
pictures not too clear
A                                 
Mama, Papa, stop, treasure what 
you got; soon you may be caught 
     E
without it
A                                 
The curfews set for eight; will it
                          E
 ever all be straight? I doubt it.


Verse:
E                                 
Seven jealous fools playing by her
  A                    E
 rules, can't believe her
A                                 
He feels so in between, can't 
                              E
break the scene, it would grieve her
E                                 
And that's the reason why he must 
B5                      A
cry, he'll never leave her.
E                                A
  E
Crooked children, yellow chalk 
writing on the concrete walk, their 
King died
A                                 
Drinking from a Judas cup, looking
                                E
 down but seeing up, sweet red wine


Chorus:
G                         D      
'Cos Papa don't allow no new 
   A     E
ideas round here
G                                 
And now you hear the music, but 
   D           A          E
the words don't sound too clear.
A                                 
Mama, Papa, stop. Treasure what 
you got. Soon you may be caught 
      E
without it
A                                 
The curfews set for eight will it 
                               E
ever all be straight? I doubt it.


Outro:
E                                 
Going down a dusty, Georgian side 
            A
road, I wonder
E                               
The wind splashed in my face, can 
   B5                     E
smell a trace, of thunder.