Track Number 8

D = 000200

Em = 222000

F = 333200

G = 555400


F                             D        F
I crossed the highways like I did as a child
Bm               Am        G            F
On my way to the movies, I pet cats and smile
F                             D              F
I walk the back alleys, their John Steinback calm
Bm          Am           G          F
Fake trees, lemon trees, tall shady palms



Em                  D           Am
Big empty churches, old antique stores
Em                      D             Am
Peeling Victorians that used to house whores
Em                      D          Am
I take the back streets back to my digs
Em                          D        Am
And look up at skies like I did as a kid



F                      D            F
My bedroom window, I’d look out and dream
Bm        Am       G        F
Of a life close to what I’m living
F                      D          F
A traveling singer who plays good guitar
Bm         Am         G            F
At outdoor festivals, theaters and bars



Em          D                          Am
And I got a nice girl, she’s beautiful too
Em                D                     Am
We’re destined to be this, I know to be true
Em              D                        Am
Sure there were others, but nothing this nice
Em          D                   Am
She set the bait and I took the bite



Em             F           G         Am
The streets of Martinez, I love them so
Em            F            G            Am
I walk around thinking the sun’s always low
Em          F            G        Am
The cats of Martinez, I love them so
Em             F           G           Am
I feed them at night, they run off and go



Em         F     G                Am
Four kitty cats, gave them their names
Em             F           G            Am
Monster Fluff, Half Fluff, No Fluff and Sammy
Em          F                G           Am
They’re the highlights of my songwriting days
Em               F          G          Am
They’re happy to see me, we sit and we play



F                      D               F
These are some words I wrote down last night
Bm               Am          G             F
I’ve beat ‘em to death and I can’t get ‘em right
F                     D           F
Songwriting’s lonely, songwriting hurts
Bm            Am      G       F
A relentless itch and bed bug curse



Em          D                      Am
Songwriting costs, it doesn’t come free
Em        D                 Am
Ask Eliot Smith, ask Richie Lee
Em          D                 Am
Ask Mark Linkous, ask Shannon Hoon
Em           D                      Am
To get up on stage and sing you a tune



F                             D           F
This business is troubling, a big nagging cyst
Bm              Am              G          F
You get on this plane and I’ll sit at your desk
F                           D          F
And I’ll leave at eight and be home by five
Bm           Am        G        F
Call me from Warsaw if you have time



Em              D            Am
Ever wonder why there aren’t more
Em                     D                    Am
Than ten songs on most albums, cause it’s a chore
Em                     D             Am
To write half a dozen, some guys lay back
Em                 D
And rest on their laurels

              Am
Like lazy old hacks



Em           F
Well I wrote this one
      G              Am
And I know it ain’t great
Em             F
We’ll probably sequence it
 G           Am
Track number eight
Em                        F
And pick up some water at 7-11
      G                    Am
On my way to the mastering session



Em                F        G         Am
The streets of Martinez, I love them so
Em             F            G          Am
I walk out the door and the sun always flows
Em             F        G         Am
The cats of Martinez, I love them so
Em           F         G           Am
They help me forget my songwriting woes