Track Number 8

D = 000200

Em = 222000

F = 333200

G = 555400


F                             D  
I crossed the highways like I did
      F
 as a child
Bm               Am        G    
On my way to the movies, I pet 
        F
cats and smile
F                             D  
I walk the back alleys, their 
            F
John Steinback calm
Bm          Am           G      
Fake trees, lemon trees, tall 
    F
shady palms



Em                  D           
Big empty churches, old antique 
Am
stores
Em                      D    
Peeling Victorians that used to 
         Am
house whores
Em                      D         
I take the back streets back to my
 Am
 digs
Em                          D    
And look up at skies like I did 
    Am
as a kid



F                      D         
My bedroom window, I’d look out 
   F
and dream
Bm        Am       G        F
Of a life close to what I’m living
F                      D          
A traveling singer who plays good 
F
guitar
Bm         Am         G          
At outdoor festivals, theaters and 
  F
bars



Em          D             
And I got a nice girl, she’s 
             Am
beautiful too
Em                D              
We’re destined to be this, I know
       Am
 to be true
Em              D                
Sure there were others, but 
        Am
nothing this nice
Em          D                   Am
She set the bait and I took the bite



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Em             F           G    
The streets of Martinez, I love 
     Am
them so
Em            F            G    
I walk around thinking the sun’s
        Am
 always low
Em          F            G        Am
The cats of Martinez, I love them so
Em             F           G    
I feed them at night, they run 
       Am
off and go



Em         F     G               
Four kitty cats, gave them their 
 Am
names
Em             F           G    
Monster Fluff, Half Fluff, No 
        Am
Fluff and Sammy
Em          F             
They’re the highlights of my 
   G           Am
songwriting days
Em               F          G   
They’re happy to see me, we sit 
       Am
and we play



F                      D         
These are some words I wrote down
      F
 last night
Bm               Am          G  
I’ve beat ‘em to death and I 
           F
can’t get ‘em right
F                     D           
Songwriting’s lonely, songwriting 
F
hurts
Bm            Am      G       F
A relentless itch and bed bug curse



Em          D                     
Songwriting costs, it doesn’t come
 Am
 free
Em        D                 Am
Ask Eliot Smith, ask Richie Lee
Em          D                 Am
Ask Mark Linkous, ask Shannon Hoon
Em           D                   
To get up on stage and sing you a
   Am
 tune



F                             D  
This business is troubling, a big
         F
 nagging cyst
Bm              Am              
You get on this plane and I’ll 
G          F
sit at your desk
F                           D    
And I’ll leave at eight and be 
      F
home by five
Bm           Am        G        F
Call me from Warsaw if you have time



Em              D            Am
Ever wonder why there aren’t more
Em                     D         
Than ten songs on most albums, 
           Am
cause it’s a chore
Em                     D         
To write half a dozen, some guys 
    Am
lay back
Em                 D
And rest on their laurels

              Am
Like lazy old hacks



Em           F
Well I wrote this one
      G              Am
And I know it ain’t great
Em             F
We’ll probably sequence it
 G           Am
Track number eight
Em                        F
And pick up some water at 7-11
      G                    Am
On my way to the mastering session



Em                F        G    
The streets of Martinez, I love 
     Am
them so
Em             F            G   
I walk out the door and the sun 
       Am
always flows
Em             F        G         Am
The cats of Martinez, I love them so
Em           F         G         
They help me forget my 
  Am
songwriting woes