Propagandhi – Back To The Motor League (Guitar Acoustic)

C#                       F#     E   C#            F#       E              C#
  I like to party fuckin hard           I like my rock and roll the same

C# F#             E              C#                 F#        E              C#
     Don’t give a fuck if I burn out   Don’t give a fuck if I fade away

           Bsus2                              C#sus2
Before I’m forced to face the wrath of a well-heeled buying public

C#                               E E/Eb E [x2]
    Who live vicariously through

Bsus2                                    C#sus2
Tortured-artist college rock [and] floor-punching macho pablum

C#                               E E/Eb E [x2]
    Back to the motor league I go

     Bsus2                                 C#sus2
Once thought I drew a lucky hand    Turned out to be a live grenade

B C#           C# B           B B/Bb             C#  C# B E E/Eb
     Oh my god!     Holy shit!       Aaahhhhhhh!

A             A              B              E     F#      C#  C# B E E/Eb
  Play-acting anarchists and mommy’s little  skin---heads

A                             A                       B           E  F#
  Death threats and sycophants and weiners drunk on straight-edge

C#              C#          B E E/Eb
   Fuck off,    Who cares?

    A                A              B              E        F#
I’d rather highlight Trip-tiks than listen to your bullshit

C#            C#            B E E/Eb
   Fuck off,     Who cares?

           A                   A                 B             E        F#
about your stupid scenes, your shitty zines, the straw-men you build up   to burn

C#sus2                      E E/Eb E [x2]
   It never ceases to amaze

           Bsus2                          C#sus2
And as I’m suffering your perfection it reminds me of my own race

  C#                               E E/Eb E [x2]
[To] redress my own sad history of:

B C#             C# B          B B/Bb             A A/Ab A
.....Mouthed Feet....Eaten hats......Teeted bulls

B C#                  C# B               B B/Bb
.....Amish phone-books....Drunken brawls

   C#          C#          B
(But) what have...we here?

E  E/Eb     A              A                   B              E    F#
   15 years later it still reeks of swills and chickenshit conformists

C#                  C#   B
   Fists in the air

E  E/Eb        A                 A                B           E  F#
   Like-father like-son “rebels” bloated on korn, eminem, and bizkits

C#          C#            B
   Lord hear...our prayer

E  E/Eb            A           A              B           E   F#
   Take back your!...Amy Grant mosh-crews and fairweather politics

C#          C#        B E E/Eb     A                       B
   Blow dry ...my hair........ and stick me on a ten-speed

        C#                        B
I guess life is just a popularity contest

                     A                             G#
Success, the ability to perform within a framework of obedience

             C#
Just ask the candy-coated joy-cam rockbands

B
Selling shoes for venture-capitalists

A
Silencing competing messages

G#
Rounding off the jagged edges