Tabs
Intro:
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A D
This week's cash for last week's grass your crew collates,
Bm
while you sit in the van and wait.
A D
Gassed and trashed and smashed young cads roasting away
Bm E F#m
on a sunny summer day (or, okay, an August night anyway),
D E F#m
and you're living on air, while on the 25th floor, up there,
D E
they'd fan a million bucks before your face.
D E F#m
Marie's passed out in a chair with her once fussed-over hair
D E
all mussed into an I've just been fucked shape.
A
Just an hour before, she crashed, all cashed.
D
She said, "I'm done with looking back, and you look your age
Bm E F#m
- which is thirty-seven, by the way, and not twenty-eight.
D E F#m
And fucking let them stare, because at this point I don't care.
D E
I have been your bride stripped bare since '98.
D E F#m
And our silver-screen affair, it weighs less to me than air.
D E
It's a gas now. It's a laugh just how far several mil can take it."
Repeat Intro
This week's as fast as last week's flash of interstate,
when you starved and never ate.
This week's splashed a sick, gold cast across your face,
as you roam on silk, ripped tippy-toe alone through Silver lake
- splayed astride a snow-white mare, on a non-stop all-night tear.
What a ghastly sight you smear in every face.
In that fat, fur-trimmed affair that your lawyer lets you wear,
you'll destroy your chance to ever get repeatedly engaged.