D G A Bm It’s sad to see your art hanging on the wallD G So many pictures thereA Bm D Yours the best of allD G I like the IndianA Bm D The one in ballpoint inkG A D In ancient Massachusettes long before you calledEm D F#7 You traded him and many others for a drinkD G Your fingers thick from hammersD A Well it really makes you thinkBm C D Gm And then my father would fill your glass so tallD G A Bm D When I was a kid I gophered in your crewG Always a kind wordA Bm D And you showed me what to doD G A Bm D And living hammered, well its always hit or missG A But through your cigarette-stained beardD Your love rang trueD Em D F#7 And though you are so loved it had to come to thisD G D A You got shut off because you always stink of pissBm C D Gm And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you [END CHORUS]A Dm Oh, FitzyG7 Gm Oh, FitzyA Dm Oh, FitzyG7 Gm Oh, FitzyA Dm G7 Dm G7 Dm G7 D Oh, Fitzy
Fitzgerald
Frank Black
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Tom: