Drive-By Truckers – Shit Shots Count (Guitar)

         C                          G
Put your cigarette out and get your hat back on

      C                     G
Don't mix up which is which

F                    C
  They don't pay you enough to work

                G
Well they don't pay me enough to bitch

C                             G
  Boss ain't as smart as he'd like to be

             C                          G
But he ain't nearly as dumb as you think

F                  C                       G
  He just wants evolution on budget with a schedule to keep

C                   G
Suburban four lanes moving like blood through an

C                    G
old man's dying heart

F                     C                      G
  Nothing but time to keep hope alive at the speed of a stream of tar

C                         G
 He bought in young and I have no doubt

                C                       G
he's gonna cash out with a winning deal

F                          C
  Trophy tail wives taking boner pill rides for the

G
price of a happy meal

C                        G
Shit shots count and the table is tilted

     C                          G
Just pay the man who levels the floor

F                         C
Pride's what you charge a proud man for having

G
Shame is what you sell to a whore

C                         G
Meat’s just meat and it’s all born dying,

        C                       G
some is tender and some is tough.

F                  C
 Somebody's got to mop up the A1,

    G
somebody's got to mop up the blood

D           Bm          C
High ground ain't high enough

            G            Am
To kill you quick if you fall

C      D         G           F                                  C
  Idealistically speaking it sounds like you ain't listening at all

D           Bm                     C          G
Friday night riches are all you're ever gonna need until the

Am
fight in you on Monday's gone

C                       G
One more drag tuck your hair in your hat

      F                                   C
Don't act so surprised try not to look so lost

C                        G
Shit shots count and the table is tilted

     C                          G
Just pay the man who levels the floor

F                         C
Pride's what you charge a proud man for having

G
Shame is what you sell to a whore

C                         G
Meat’s just meat and it’s all born dying,

        C                       G
some is tender and some is tough.

F                  C
 Somebody's got to mop up the A1,

    G
somebody's got to mop up the blood