Bruce Springsteen – Saga Of The Architect Angel (Guitar)

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 Em            C              Dm              Em
The architect angel held the straight Judah ranch

     C                           G         Bm
Just a dirty mile down on the borderline

        Em                C                    D           G
Where he mastered blasting and hustled young cattle for slaughter

     Em              Bm
And dated Judah’s daughter

          Em                 C                  D
From the cellar ways to the attics and all across the plains

        C                 G         Bm
Broke electric static of religious strain

            Em               C             G
And though he was never an addict, he wore scars on his veins

           Em                             Bm               C
Like a young girl holds her  first pimp, he held his Bible limp

        G                   D            C            Em
From desert bars and church bazaars, the hungry slowly came

        G                 D          C              Em
With vulgar faces from vulgar places looking for a game

       C                    Em                  C
Well ivory gun handles and chamber grease and souped-up

      D
Hydroplanes

         C                Em      C                     Em
The bullets burn from TV silver, bearing great cowboys names

      Fm                C#     ⁶            D#
Now with 14 inches of gun barrel smoking from the lid

      Fm                       C#                 G#
Spurs on straight black boot heels, he said “They call me the Brooklyn

   Cm
 Kid”

           G#                             D#
He was stomping the step he called the Brooklyn Twister,

     C#                     Fm
his six-guns were pumping through

      Fm                   C#       D#                 Fm
His tongue hung low like sawdust scraping across the plains

      C#                   Fm.                     C#
He crawled up outside the Judah ranch and started calling the angel

   Fm
names

              F#m        D                       E                  F#m
And now the architect angel stood, in one hand a staff, the other a gun

          D                                                          E
He held the staff high in the wind, the gun was like a piece in the sun

            F#m                D              E                  A
He started howling like a monsoon wind, drew fast, the job was done

           D                      Bm              F#m
At night the moon stretched tight light across the plains

      D                 A                 F#m
As real cowboys sat around real campfire flames

      D                 A.                        Bsus2
And the county wolf called as if to explain to his son

     D        A          Bm
The way the west was won

     D                A
The west was finally won

 Bm.                D                A
Oooh-oooh-oooh, the way the west was won

Bm      D.      A
Oooh-oooh-oooh-oooh