Fuck Ups

A                                 
Look, here comes another man with 
  D                    E
another sorry story to tell
 A                               
And you can bet he'll tell me all 
            D                      
about the time he fell from Heaven 
     E
to Hell
         A
Well, I don't wanna listen but he 
tells me all the same
    D                        E
Of torturous debauchery form his 
wife's little games
  A
Leave me alone, you're not a dog, 
I'm not a bone
             D                     
But you're gonna bury me with your 
 E
tales of misery

[Bridge]
      F#m
And when I'm out on Saturday with 
Charlie and Bill
    D                            E
I know full well I shouldn't I 
            F#m
don't know if I will
F#m
Or I won't, will I do what I don't?
   D                             E
Nothing is for definite and nothing 
is for sure
D                         E
I am getting desperate as I am 
getting poor

[Chorus]
        C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
              A
With their stories and their tears, 
and their cigarettes and beers
          C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
   F                           
I think they're killing me with 
       G
their grim reality

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[Verse]
A                                 
Look, here comes another drunk 
     D                    E
with a face longer than bin Laden's
A                                 
And he has drunk so much alcohol 
      D                E
he can no longer get a hard-on
A
Not that he'd ever get a chance to 
use it
  D                        E
Women are intelligent and he is 
stupid
 A                              D 
Lost and lonely he will remain, no
                          E
 amount of alcohol will wash his 
blues away

[Bridge]
      F#m
And when I'm out on Saturday with 
Charlie and Bill
    D                            E
I know full well I shouldn't I 
            F#m
don't know if I will
F#m
Or I won't, will I do what I don't?
   D                             E
Nothing is for definite and nothing 
is for sure

[Chorus]
        C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
              A
With their stories and their tears, 
and their cigarettes and beers
          C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
   F                           
I think they're killing me with 
       G
their grim reality

[Solo]
B B
A A D E x6

[Verse]
A                           
Well, a thirty-three year-old 
                D             E
grandma comes up to me and says
      A
"My family's gonna take over this 
council estate
       D                           
If we keep on giving birth at this 
 E
rate
I could've been a 
  A                               
great-great-great-grandma by the 
D               E
age of seventy-five
     A                             
And I will be clad in fake 
          D                     E
Burberry, I don't care if I'm dead 
or alive
        D                    E
I don't care if I'm dead or alive."

[Chorus]
        C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
              A
With their stories and their tears, 
and their cigarettes and beers
          C
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
   F                           
I think they're killing me with 
       G
their grim reality
          A
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
        D                       
If your life is going wrong, you 
  E
better sing along
        A
All the fucked up fuck ups fucking 
me up
      D          E
(You fucked up fuck ups!)
A