Key: A
Introduction:
A Bm
Always at the foot of the photograph - that's me there
A
Snug as a thug in a mugshot pose
Bm
Owner of this corner and not much more
A D E
Still these days I'm better placed to get my just rewards
A
I'll pound out a tune and very soon
D E
I'll have too much to say and a dead stupid name
CHORUS
A E
Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
A E
Of "Oh I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
A E
Calendars crumble I'm knee deep in numbers
A E A
Turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again
Rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two
AmI
But to face doom in a sock-stenched room all by myself
Is the kind of fate I never contemplate
D
Know what it's like
To sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life?
Bm D
Every stopped to think and found out nothing was there?
E A
They laugh to see such fun
Bm D
Playing Blind Man's Bluff all by myself
A
And they're chanting a line from a nursery rhyme
E D
"Ba Ba Bleary Eyes - Have you any idea?"
A E A E
The calendar's cluttered with days that are numbered