Bomb the Music Industry! – Side Projects Are Never Successful (Guitar)

  G5
(It was a hot June day, and my ass was sticking to the seat of my girlfriend's car)

C
Staten Island traffic in the summer, summer!

G
Staten Island traffic in the summer, baby

C
Staten Island traffic in the summer, summer!

G
Staten Island traffic in the summer, baby

C
Staten Island traffic in the summer, summer!

G
Staten Island traffic in the summer, baby

C
Staten Island traffic in the summer, summer!

             G
And when you stuff yourself into a suit and tie

                 C
do you think the judge can see through the sweat as he gives you your fine

      G
for a post-panic attack speeding ticket on a

C
90 degree day in New York.

    G
And yeah, you're gonna drive home for three hours to work in a

C
basement for tribute bands making posters

   G
to pay about a fifth of that price.

          C
It's just Staten Island traffic in the summer. Oh!

Em             C
   That orange ball. (HEY HEY HEY)

     Em                                C
That burning orb of fire in the sky is gonna explode and we're all gonna die!

G                                                     D                               B
Except for the foolish few who will "think ahead" and drive their SUV's to their bomb shelters

Em             C                         Em                          C
Complain about air conditioning because "baby, we ain't got no more electricity."

C
They wanna rise when it's done, be a leader with a gun.

A7
Be a leader of what? Like a hundred and one?

    Em                                                   C
Well, fuck it, I'm gonna hang out on the rooftop when it comes.

                  D             C
'Cause when it's dark, it'll be night time, baby.

    G                     C
And I'll get my ass on up out of this mess.

    D                    C
The only stores that are open, baby.

     G
They gonna sell beer, and they're gonna sell ice cream.

          D                         C
And we'll drink drink drink and get drunk drunk drunk

          G                        Em
and we'll talk talk talk about how much much much

F                    Am
how much fun we had, yeah, when

        G
we were fuckin' the world, oh we're fucking the world, yeah!

            G                                   C
Through the glares on our windshields, we can't see each others eyes,

       G                                      C
just McDonalds cups and wrappers that they're throwing at full speed.

    G                                    C
And yes, I long for a shadow. And yes, I always appreciate the irony

         G                                            C
that the only cool comfort that allows us to see is a goddamn billboard. Sing it with me.

G                                                            C
A billboard (billboard) is the only thing preventing us from blindly crashing

G                                                            C
A billboard (billboard) is the only thing preventing us from blindly crashing

          G
And we'll never see a city not marred by advertisements,

          C
and we'll NEVER have a future not working for those companies,

         G
and it's sure as shit not getting better

      Am
so we might as well accept it now, oh.

Em                      C
And that really doesn't cheapen anything

         Em                         C
because, baby, we're all born to be businessmen.

G
Every Fugazi record has a catalog number and a price tag

D                                                          D#dim
and every independent label is selling you another goddamn product.

Em                              C
But, NO, WE'RE not slaves to the music.

       Em                          C
Oh no, WE'RE not slaves to the company, baby.

C
We do what we're born and raised to do

                A7
and when you're creating something, you're producing something

         D                                    C
and the act of producing is the creation of a product.

D                               C
'Cause when it's dark, it'll be night time, baby.

    G                     C
And I'll get my ass on up out of this mess.

    D                     C
The only stores that are open, baby.

     G
They gonna sell beer, and they're gonna sell ice cream.

          D                         C
And we'll drink drink drink and get drunk drunk drunk

          G                        Em
and we'll talk talk talk about how much much much

F                    Am
how much fun we had, yeah, when

G                                   C                           
we were fuckin' the world, oh we're fucking the world, yeah!

              Em                F
Yeah, we were fu fu cking cking the the world.

         C
When the sun drops, you ain't gonna be hungover the next day.

         C/B
When the comet hits, you ain't gonna have no bills to pay.

         C/Bb
When the bomb hits, it's gonna be a four day weekend. Hey hey!

          Am                      G
When it's all done I'm gonna feel great

      Em     G    Am
...finally.

           G                            C
And when I finally got to work today, I ate my Subway sandwich,

      G                               C
and I drank my Coca-Cola Classic, and then I ate my Sunchips

      G                                  C
and I thought about the weekend when I'd fill up my Ford van

     G                   C
with Mobil brand gas and drive to the Clear Channel venue and

    G                            C
I'd drink myself a Budweiser and play my Fender guitar

           G                    C
through my Fender amplifier and tell the kids with a straight face

          G                    C                 G                     C
through a Shure microphone and JBL speakers that corporate rock is for suckers.