[INTRO] Gm (x3) Bm It’s sad to see your art hanging on the wall G So many pictures there D Yours the best of all G I like the Indian D The one in ballpoint ink D In ancient Massachusettes long before you called F#7 You traded him and many others for a drink G Your fingers thick from hammers A Well it really makes you think Gm And then my father would fill your glass so tall
D When I was a kid I gophered in your crew G Always a kind word D And you showed me what to do D And living hammered, well its always hit or miss A But through your cigarette-stained beard D Your love rang true F#7 And though you are so loved it had to come to this A You got shut off because you always stink of piss Gm And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you [END CHORUS] Dm Oh, Fitzy Gm Oh, Fitzy Dm Oh, Fitzy Gm Oh, Fitzy D Oh, Fitzy [OUTRO]
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