Drive-By Truckers – Guitar Man Upstairs (Guitar)

                            A      D                    A
I think I'm gonna call the Police, I hear something upstairs

                                           B               E
I know good and well there ain't nothing good going on up there

D                                                A        D
There's probably ten or more of them sittin' all around

A                       E                        A
Smokin' that stuff and drinkin' that hard liquor down

                         A      D                      A
I've been living in this city     since the day I was born

                                           B                 E
I've seen good times come and go and I've seen bad times drag on

D                                          A               D
I've seen white and black folks alike get treated just like sin

A                            E                 D                  A
And every year or so I see a new truck load of white trash movin' in

D                                 A
When I was sixteen I had a little trouble with the law

B                                 E
I ain't done nothing wrong"

D                                A             D
He grabbed me by the arm and He went upside my head

   A
Nobody saw nothing

E                               D              A
But I got a little spot where my hair ain't grown back yet

                            A      D                    A
I used to have me a woman and a pretty fine home

                                           B               E
But it took so much to keep them both going I was always out and gone

D                                                A        D
I came home one afternoon to get me change of clothes

A                       E                        D
Caught a quick walkin' slick talkin' guitar picker

A
Headin' out my back door

D                                 A
Now I'm proud to say I ain't never been no violent man

                                                        B           E
But I'd sure be rotting in jail today if I'd had me a gun in my hand

D                                              A                      D
I went inside threw her clothes on the floor and laid a suitcase across the bed

A              E                      D
Not a word got spoke not a lick got throwed

                         A
And my woman ain't come back yet

                            A      D                    A
Now I live in this building with the punks and the freaks

                                           B               E
And I don't do much of nothing except go to work, come home, and drink

D                                                A        D
So guitar man you done picked the wrong damn place to stay

A                 E               D             A
I'm a feeble old man