GUITAR MAN UPSTAIRS
(Cooley / DBT)

(Scene: a small apartment on the south side of Birmingham
as a pissed off old man rants:)
           
                            A (x02220@1)    D (xx0232@1)                  AI (x02220@1)think I'm gonna call the Police, I hear something upstairs
                                           B (x2444x@1)             EI (022100@1)know good and well there ain't nothing good going on up there
D (xx0232@1)                                              A (x02220@1)      DThere's (xx0232@1)probably ten or more of them sittin' all around
A (x02220@1)                     E (022100@1)                      ASmokin' (x02220@1)that stuff and drinkin' that hard liquor down


                         A (x02220@1)    D (xx0232@1)                    AI've (x02220@1)been living in this city     since the day I was born
                                           B (x2444x@1)               E (022100@1)      
I've seen good times come and go and I've seen bad times drag on
D (xx0232@1)                                        A (x02220@1)             DI've (xx0232@1)seen white and black folks alike get treated just like sin
A (x02220@1)                          E (022100@1)               D (xx0232@1)                AAnd (x02220@1)every year or so I see a new truck load of white trash movin' in



D (xx0232@1)                               AWhen (x02220@1)I was sixteen I had a little trouble with the law

He said "Boy come here" I said "Boy yourself
   B (x2444x@1)                   EI (022100@1)ain't done nothing wrong"
D (xx0232@1)                              A (x02220@1)           DHe (xx0232@1)grabbed me by the arm and He went upside my head
   ANobody (x02220@1)saw nothing
       E (022100@1)                       D (xx0232@1)                   ABut (x02220@1)I got a little spot where my hair ain't grown back yet



I used to have me a woman and a pretty fine home
But it took so much to keep them both going I was always out and gone
I came home one afternoon to get me change of clothes
Caught a quick walkin' slick talkin' guitar picker
Headin' out my back door

Now I'm proud to say I ain't never been no violent man
But I'd sure be rotting in jail today if I'd had me a gun in my hand
I went inside threw her clothes on the floor and laid a suitcase across the bed
Not a word got spoke not a lick got throwed
And my woman ain't come back yet

Now I live in this building with the punks and the freaks
And I don't do much of nothing except go to work, come home, and drink
So guitar man you done picked the wrong damn place to stay
I'm a feeble old man
You're a young smart-ass
And there's a law-man on his way