Chords for Red Clay Ramblers - Merchants Lunch

[A] _ _ _ _ [B] _ _ _ [G] _
_ _ _ [A] _ _ [Em] _ I took a walk.
He was walking up and down Broadway.
I was looking.
Had [A] an eye out for a swell cafe.
I [Am] was hungry.
He was sounding for a bite to munch.
I found a spot.
He [A] took a table at the _ _ _
_ [B] Merchant's _ _ _ _ _
[Em] _ _ _ _ [B] _ _ _ _
_ [Em] _ _ _ _ _ _
Lodge.
For the boys, railways, cowboys and their goodwill duds.
[Am] And the girls, a pride of fennel, pushin' pinball queens.
Chewing [Em] gum, and sweaty combat at the wizard machines.
But [Gbm] the queen of them all, [B] looking big as a forge, was [E] Broadway Brenda and her derelict court.
[A] _ _ I ordered a blue plate special [D] and peered [A] out through [D] the room. _
[B] Just to see what class of citizens _ [Em] inhabited [B] _ [Em] this gloom.
[C] And the hapless _ visages I saw [F] were in [C] a scent [F] of cheer.
[D] Though mirthless laughter filled the air, [Gm] inspired [D] by [G] wine and beer.
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[Bb] _ [A] From these helpless _ accidents [Em] [D] of [A] fortune's careless [D] aim, _
_ [B] Broadway Brenda rose upon [Em] her coin [B]-sized six [Em]-foot frame. _
[C] I turned away to shun [D] her [F] eyes, but I knew it was too late. _
[D] A hand fell on my shoulder as [G] my gaze [D] fell on [G] my plate.
[B] _
_ [Em] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I looked her up and over, and she did the same to me.
Her teeth were green, as green as garden bees.
She [Am] shaved her hair with dishpan fingertips.
[Em] An earthquake of excitement shook her crack of toe and hips.
[B] Her hands went to her bosom.
A hush fell on the crew.
[Em] An acre of Brenda lay exposed to view.
These fevered words she whispered as he gazed upon the scene.
It's a custom here at Merchant's Luncheon to [G] entertain the queen.
I [Am] grabbed my hat.
In an instant he was on his [Em] feet.
I was sober as a judge down at the county seat.
[B] He kept his diesel up to 80, with his fat and rouge.
[Em] Made it back to Burma for the evening [E] news.
[Fm] _ _ He owns a wide, low rig.
I pay thousands in tax.
He's gonna keep it in Texas.
I ain't leaving for snots.
[Bbm] He's a driving fool.
The interstate belongs to me, [Fm] but I'm never going back into the state of Tennessee.
Oh, the [C] Merchant's Lunch, it was an ocean of gloom.
It looked like [G] half past midnight in the [Fm] afternoon. _ _ _ _ _ _
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