Matrimonial Inclinations chords by Jack White

Key: A

🎸 Intro:

E A  E  A  D C# A B
E  A  E  A  F#m  B E A



🎸 Verse 1:
A
You people can talk about your cold-shell roadie mamas
           E                              Am
Mama, your chin up 'bout your house being brown
                                           F#
Well
I got a woman way down in Mobile
Alabama
          B                     E
She's the warmest thing in that town, doggone her skin

🎸 Verse 2:
A
She ain't got no papa
E
Leave me alone
E7
She ain't got no big boy
A
Please take me home
                   F#5
This mama just got one object in view
    F#5                               E5
And what she said to me
I know she's bound to say to you


🎸 Verse 3:
A                                                 F#m
She'll say, "Papa, if you ain't got matrimonial inclinations
B              E            A   E A
Then keep your hands to yourself"
                                               F#
"Daddy, if you ain't got no bungalow-made reservations
B                            E
Son, don't let your hands be felt"


🎸 Verse 4:
               E                         E
Well
I'm this red hot papa you heard so much talk about
                E                         E
But you're an asbestos woman who mortally put my fire out
A                                    F#
Papa, you ain't got no matrimonial inclinations
B                E                  A         E
Please keep your hands to yourself, doh doh doh


🎸 Verse 5:
E                       A
When I first met you
I had no shoes
    D                           Dm
But look at me now
I got these barefooted blues
A                                    B
Papa, you ain't got no matrimonial intentions
                 E                  A         E
Please keep your hands to yourself, doh doh doh


🎸 Interlude:
A  E  A  E  A  E  A
E  A  F#m B E A


🎸 Verse 6:
A                                    F#m
Papa, if you ain't got matrimonial inclinations
Bm               E            D    E
Please keep your hands to yourself
A                                          F#
Daddy, if you ain't got no bungalow-made reservations
B                            E
Son, don't let your hands be felt


🎸 Verse 7:
A                                        A
Well
I'm this red hot papa you heard so much talk about
              D                           D
But you're an asbestos woman who mortally put my fire out
A                                       F#
Papa, if you ain't got no matrimonial intentions
B         E
Oh Death, where is thy sting?