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Topsy Turvy

Daddy’s in the kitchen (?) sauerkraut, 
Momma’s in the bedroom nearly all cried out
Daddy thinks whiskey makes him big and smart,
Mamma thinks daddy’s got a concrete heart
  Eb		Ab          Eb           Ab	  Bb7
I wish I had a brother or a sister into I could turn  

Bustin’ out the windows with a baseball bat,
Daddy’s gone crazy like a bunk house rat,
Momma’s on the sofa with a big black eye
I cross my heart and tell myself I hope they die
I wish I had a nickel for every time I cursed the word (?)

Cm    						 Cm7
Mad house all topsy turvy a ship of fools with scurvy
I don't like a thing about the way we live

Momma’s on the pavement with a broken arm
Telling everybody that he meant no harm
Talk about denial with a great big D,
You can try to fool the neighbors but you can’t fool me
I wish some kind of millionaire would come adopt me on the spot


Police knocked on our door, they’ve seen it all before
Eb			      C#
Why don’t you use restraint, we’ve had a few complaints

Now all the other women up and down the block
Are tuning up the static with the front door locked
They great us in the morning with a great big grin
But I know they’re only waiting till the roof caves in
I don’t even know if we can make it to another day

I don't like a thing about the way we live (repeat many times)

by: José Duarte
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