Chords for The Rumjacks - A Fistful O' Roses (Live at Woodstock Festival Poland 2016)

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_ _ Oh, I've loved you from afar, [C] I've mourned your [G] life to star,
Sung your name across the bloody [D] cold, your ease, oh.
[G] Burned a poison to your heart, your charmless little tart,
Now you've never yet learnt to bother a [D] woman, have [G] you?
This town is gone to bits, [C] all the vulgar [G] uncle tits,
Screamin' hoorah!
You've [D] rocked our places, [G] a rat parade of fools,
[C] Not the song for [G] all you do's like a [D] fistful of half-dead, [G] Hoorah!
There's nothing here again, home again,
Let the whiskey flow again, let the dust blow [D] again,
Sell the way they're made [G] like a fistful of roses,
Take them to the grave, every [D] last town there [G] is trash hell.
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_ _ [G] This reason is a rag, [C] all that [G] money's a dag,
Like a tired old sinner [D] off a jam,
[G] When your blood-red lips [C] say,
The youth of [G] Bader hit still the rag,
And [D] some other [G] chums start _ sayin',
Where the most bad friends [C] come,
You'd better wear your [G] Monday suits,
And the signage come to rattle the [D] campfire,
Jesus!
[G] Salvage ain't a fault of yours,
[C] It's half-bad [G] or the whores,
Like a fistful of [D] half-dead,
[G] Roses!
There's nothing here again, home [C] again,
Let the [G] whiskey flow [C] again, let the [G] dust blow [D] again,
Sell the way they're made [G] like a fistful of roses,
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Take them [G] to the grave, every [D] last town there [G] is trash hell.
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_ [G] _ _ _ May all the autumn leaves turn to twenties at your feet,
And the higher mighty come to know your thunder,
We could set the world ablaze,
[C] But these are [G] early days,
And there's still a hell of a road for [D] us to [G] wander,
And there's one here among [C] us,
Alone [G] and the rest,
Take a temple to his bibles [D] and his praises,
[G] That strike him off the roll,
[C] And shrug him [G] down old,
Like a [Dm] fistful of half-dead,
_ [G] Roses!
There's nothing here again, home [C] again,
Let [G] the whiskey flow [C] again, let [G] the dust blow [D] again,
Sell the way they're made like [G] a fistful of [C] roses,
Take [G] them to the grave, every [D]
last town there [G] is trash hell.
There's nothing here again, home again,
[C] Let the [G] whiskey flow again, [C] let the [G] dust blow [D] again,
Sell the way they're made [G] like a fistful of roses,
[C] Take them [G] to the grave, every last [D] town there is [G] trash hell.
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_ [A] Ho!
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_ _ _ Ho! _ _ _
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