Drive-By Truckers – Love Like This (Guitar)

G                                        F         G         
Coming home with a bottle, trying not to break the seal.

G                                                     F           C
This Friday evening traffic's about enough to break a man's will.

F                                            C        Am
And I can't wait to see you and see how your week has gone,

              D                           G
and tear into Old No.7 and make love till dawn.

G                                             F               G 
But your Mama she'll be calling, if she ain't knocking on the door.

G                                            F            C
And it won't take me long to remember what I brought that bottle home for.

F                                   C              Am
And we'll all get to fighting, just like we always do. 

                D                              G
And by Saturday morning, I'll be singing these blues.

     F                               G
Last night I slept with my boots on again,

  C                        Am
one cut on my forehead and one my chin,

         F                 G                  C
on the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with.

      F                        G
You got me real good, girl, and I must admit,

         C                           Am
you pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish.

          F                             G                       C        
And it's a shame to know most folks don't ever know love like this.

G                                      F         G     
Come Monday morning, I'll be sore to a fare-thee-well.

G                                                  F              C
Cussin' God and America, wishing them both just to send me off to hell.

F                                              C                        Am
But the boss man don't want no excuses when it comes time to get on the clock.

                 D                                         G
And without that paycheck, I'd lose the rest of what sweet love I got.

     F                               G
Last night I slept with my boots on again,

  C                        Am
one cut on my forehead and one my chin,

         F                 G                  C
on the hard old floor with nothin to cover up with.

      F                        G
You got me real good, girl, and I must admit,

         C                           Am
you pack purty mean punch for such a pretty little dish.

          F                             G                       C
And it's a shame to know most folks don't ever know love like this.