Young Girl Blues Chords

Standard (EADGBE)

AmIt's Saturday nigCht, it feels liFke a SunAmday in some ways

If you hAmad any sense, youC'd maybe go awaFy for a Amfew days

Be that Amas it may, you caCn only say you Fare loneAmly

You are Ambut a young girl Cworking your waFy througAmh the phonies

Chorus

Dm Cafe on,F milk gone, Eadd4 such a sad light and faAmding.

Dm Yourself you toFuch, but not too muchEadd4. You hear it'Ams degrading.

The flowAmers on your stockCings wilting awFay in thAme midnight

The bookAm you are reading Cis someone's opFinion ofAm moonlight

Your skiAmn is so white, yoCu'd like maybe Fto go toAm bed soon

Just cloAmsing your eyes ifC you're to riseF up befoAmre noon

Dm High heels,F car wheels,Eadd4 all the losers are Amgroovin'

Dm Your dream,F strange scene,Eadd4 images are mAmovin'

Your friends they are making a pop star or two every evening

You know that scene backwards, they can't see the patterns

they're weaving

Your friends they're all models but you soon got over that

one

You sit in your one room a little brought down in London

Cafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.

Yourself you touch, but not too much. You hear it's

degrading.

It's Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways

If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few days

Be that as it may, you can only say you are lonely

You are but a young girl working your way through the

phoniesIt's Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways

If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few days

Be that as it may, you can only say you are lonely

You are but a young girl working your way through the

phonies

Cafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.

Yourself you touch, but not too much. You hear it's

degrading.

The flowers on your stockings wilting away in the midnight

The book you are reading is someone's opinion of moonlight

Your skin is so white, you'd like maybe to go to bed soon

Just closing your eyes if you're to rise up before noon

High heels, car wheels, all the losers are groovin'

Your dream, strange scene, images are movin'

Your friends they are making a pop star or two every evening

You know that scene backwards, they can't see the patterns

they're weaving

Your friends they're all models but you soon got over that

one

You sit in your one room a little brought down in London

Cafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.

Yourself you touch, but not too much. You hear it's

degrading.

It's Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways

If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few days

Be that as it may, you can only say you are lonely

You are but a young girl working your way through the

phonies