Almighty Malachi Professional Bowling God

    A    C    D    E    G  Gmaj9
e]--0----0----2----0----3----3--|
B]--2----1----3----0----0----0--|
G]--2----0----2----1----0----0--|
D]--2----2----0----2----0----0--|
A]--0----3---------2----2----0--|
E]-----------------0----3----2--|



 INTRO:
  B - G (x4)


 VERSE 1:
   B    G   B        G      B   
  Yooouuuu watch me on your T.V.
 G    B    G

   B  G      B      G      B    
  Saaaying that my job is easy
G    B    G

   B  G    B     G      B      
  Saaaying I am not athletic
G    B    G

   B    G      B      G         
  Yooouuuu think my sport's 
B    G    B    G   Gmaj9
pathetic
E                                 
  But you can't judge me 'till you
                            B    G
 walked a mile in my bowling shoes


 INTERLUDE:
  B - G (x3)


 VERSE 2:
   B    G     B         G  
  Sooooooo I don't get all the 
     B    G    B    G
ladies
   B    G       B           G   
  Aaaannnd my clothes are from 
    B    G    B    G
the '80s
  B    G     B           G  
  I'mmmmmm known throughout the 
     B      G    B    G   Gmaj9
vallies
Continues after the ad
E
  As the prophet of the alleys


 CHORUS 1:
A           E        C      A  
  And as I roll the ball I cry,
          E       C      A
 "Let me bowl or let me die!"
         E      C    G       D  
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the 
     A
Bowling God
                E     C       A  
  The smell of resin gets my 
              E       C     
high, kiss those fucking pins 
   A
goodbye!
         E      C    G       D  
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the 
                     B    G
Bowling, the Bowling... God


 INTERLUDE:
  B - G (x3)


 VERSE 3:
   B    G     B            G    
  Goooooot a ball that's smooth 
     B    G    B    G
and all black
     B    G     B      G
  I keeeeeep it in my lucky 
     B        G    B    G
ball-sack
     B    G     B       G     B 
  I geeeeeet a feeling in my 
   G    B    G   Gmaj9
soul
E
  As I finger every hole...


 CHORUS 2:
A           E        C      A  
  And as I roll the ball I cry,
          E       C      A
 "Let me bowl or let me die!"
         E      C    G       D  
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the 
     A
Bowling God
                E     C       A  
  The smell of resin gets my 
              E       C     
high, kiss those fucking pins 
   A
goodbye!
         E      C    G       D
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling,
 the Bowling...


 BRIDGE:
   B            G               B
  Not a single man will try to 
             G
beat Almighty Malachi
   B                 G           
  All who challenge me are slain 
B                     G
- "Come on, fuckers, pick a lane!"
   B                G             
  Marshall Holman, Gary Dickens; 
B               G
get in line for your ass kickins'
   B               G          B  
  John Petraglia, Norm Duke; 
               G
you're so lame it makes me puke
   B              G           
  Who among the pro-bowl sector 
   B                 G
dares to don his wrist protector?
   B               G           
  Not that pussy, Nelson Burton; 
   B                  G
tells me that his wrist is hurtin'
    B                  G      
  "Hey, Mark Roth and Earl 'The 
                    B              
Pearl', are you scared to give the 
   G
ball a hurl?"
        B                      G  
  How about 'Dicky' Weber and his 
                 B      
son, Pete? I'll turn the 
                    G
motherfuckers to cream of wheat!


 CHORUS 3:
A           E        C      A  
  And as I roll the ball I cry,
          E       C      A
 "Let me bowl or let me die!"
         E      C    G       D  
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the 
     A
Bowling God
                E     C       A  
  The smell of resin gets my 
              E       C     
high, kiss those fucking pins 
   A
goodbye!
         E      C    G       D
  I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling,
 the Bowling...
               A  E  C   A  E  
  The Bowling 
C    A  E  C   
Gooooooooooooooood! 
G    D            A
Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaah! The Bowling... God