This is simplified version, I just worked it out on ukulele, and it's probably not perfect, but it sounds resonably close to the song. Fm Eb Bb Nothing is crueler than children who come from good homes Fm Eb Bb God'll forgive them I guess but whose side are you on Fm Eb Bb Driving around the old town I remember it all Fm Eb Bb Dropping my lunchbox and tampax all over the hall (And they said) Cm Bb Db You are a socialist cokehead we know from your clothes Cm Bb Db You are a Satanist worshipper of things evil Cm Bb Db Think you're a poet a folksinger poseur nah-oh Cm Bb Db A volleyball player you've got to be kidding us all Eb Ab Eb Ab So we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance Eb Ab Eb Ab Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn Fm Eb Bb No-one can stop us the script is a work of genius Fm Eb Bb No-one has bought the rights yet but we're not giving up Fm Eb Bb Every unwanted lawn jockey fits in the script Fm Eb Bb Directed by spielberg and starring the masochist club Db C Mary you look like hell Db C Stuck in that ridiculous shell, oh Ab Eb Give us some light and god's pure love Db Ab We know what you've been dreaming of Ab Eb Give us some light and god's pure love Db Ab We know what you've been dreaming of Ab Eb Give us some light and god's pure love Db Fm Em We're taking you to Hollywooo-oood (Fm, E, Eb, Bb, Bbm) (Holllyyyywoooooddd!) Eb Ab Eb Ab And we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance Eb Ab Eb Ab Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn Cm Bb Db One plays a socialist cokehead we dress in my clothes Cm Bb Db One plays a Satanist worshipper of things evil Cm Bb Db One plays a poet who starts up a band of his own Cm Bb Db One plays a volleyball player with both her wrists broke Eb Ab Eb Ab And we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance Eb Ab Eb Ab Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn Eb Ab Eb Ab And we give them good homes give them love they've never known Eb Ab Eb Ab In the loft in the barn in the town where I was born
