Standard (EADGBE)
Intro
Verse
same chords):
Had a little bit to drink
There's a little thing I wanted to do out east
Nothing too emotional, my good miss
I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes
Stop talking 'bout the years -
you sound like Louis Burdett
Chorus
And we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles
and down the streets the weeks roll by.
Verse 2
( )
I'm chewing ice and grinning
I'm spewing up and spinning
It's biliousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen.
Hey you, lose that friend before we go anywhere
What? Someone might see you alone?
Stop bagging out the band,
You sound like Louis Burdett
Chorus
All my friends are fuckups
but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete
Telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How down the street the weeks roll by.
Bridge
The moment the night wears off the bombsite reappears
They're all asleep but the morning tastes like wine
It tastes like wine in Tempe
I feel so good I, just might, wake him up
Pat him on the bald head - tell me about a dream, Louis
Something obscene, Louis
Your life's an open magazine, Louis.
Solo over same chords.
I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub
Sex is everywhere but no-where around me
By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating
Never rains in Tempe but the planes remind me of family money
And the lack down here
Stop talking, frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis Burdett
Chorus
And we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles
and down the streets the weeks roll by.
All my friends are fuckups
but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete
Telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How down the street the weeks roll by.
Outro
same chords as chorus):
Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around
Terror, like charity, begins at home
Chris don't like madness, but madness likes him
He's got a finger in his chest saying how it should have been
Chorus again
...and how down the street the weeks, roll by.