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Backup by Guardin

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Tuning: Standard (E A D G B E)

e|---------------------------------------------------------|
B|-----6-----6-------6-----6-------6-----6-------6-----6---|
G|---------------------------------------------------------|
D|-------7-------------7-------------7-------------7-------|
A|--5------------5-------------8-------------8-------------|
E|---------------------------------------------------------|


e|---------------------------------------------------------|
B|-----5-----5-------5-----5-------5-----5-------5-----5---|
G|---------------------------------------------------------|
D|-------5-------------5-------------5-------------5-------|
A|--3------------3-------------3-------------3-------------|
E|---------------------------------------------------------|



************************************         
Verse 1:

Got some money in my pocket
                                                             
But that doesn't make a difference at all, at all,?at?all
                                  
This isn't fame?I'm fucking lame
                                                        
I'm just boy whose?tryna figure it out, it out, it out
                             
Well maybe this is fucking it
                               
The audience has turned against
                                                              
They wanna justify the creepin' and leak my mom's home address
                                                           
The paranoia rises best when your words sit inside my chest
                                                                    
I'm fucking human don't forget that when you're making your requests

        
Chorus:
                    
I've got my hands up
                                 
You've got your hands on your gun
                  
Calling for backup
                    
I'm not the only one
                   
I've got a question
                           
Does torturing me sound fun
                              
Yeah, you take out your stress
                                 
By punching holes out of everyone

         
Verse 2:
                          
Got some whiskey in my cup
                                                         
But I don't think that it's enough at all, at all, at all
                           
This isn't me I tell myself
                                              
I constantly worry about my health, whoa oh oh
                               
Well maybe I should fucking try
                                     
'cause death is creepin' right behind
                                                         
I see him sitting in the corner lookin' oh so fucking sly
                                                      
Anxiety is on the rise when he's constantly on my mind
                                                           
I fear the day is finally coming where I meet my own demise

        
Chorus:
                    
I've got my hands up
                                 
You've got your hands on your gun
                  
Calling for backup
                    
I'm not the only one
                   
I've got a question
                           
Does torturing me sound fun
                              
Yeah, you take out your stress
                                 
By punching holes out of everyone