GUITAR MAN UPSTAIRS
(Cooley / DBT)

(Scene: a small apartment on the south side of Birmingham
as a pissed off old man rants:)
           
                            A      D                    A
I think I'm gonna call the Police, I hear something upstairs
                                           B               E
I know good and well there ain't nothing good going on up there
D                                                A        D
There's probably ten or more of them sittin' all around
A                       E                        A
Smokin' that stuff and drinkin' that hard liquor down


                         A      D                      A
I've been living in this city     since the day I was born
                                           B                 E        
I've seen good times come and go and I've seen bad times drag on
D                                          A               D
I've seen white and black folks alike get treated just like sin
A                            E                 D                  A
And every year or so I see a new truck load of white trash movin' in



D                                 A
When I was sixteen I had a little trouble with the law

He said "Boy come here" I said "Boy yourself
   B                     E
I ain't done nothing wrong"
D                                A             D
He grabbed me by the arm and He went upside my head
   A
Nobody saw nothing
       E                         D                     A
But I got a little spot where my hair ain't grown back yet



I used to have me a woman and a pretty fine home
But it took so much to keep them both going I was always out and gone
I came home one afternoon to get me change of clothes
Caught a quick walkin' slick talkin' guitar picker
Headin' out my back door

Now I'm proud to say I ain't never been no violent man
But I'd sure be rotting in jail today if I'd had me a gun in my hand
I went inside threw her clothes on the floor and laid a suitcase across the bed
Not a word got spoke not a lick got throwed
And my woman ain't come back yet

Now I live in this building with the punks and the freaks
And I don't do much of nothing except go to work, come home, and drink
So guitar man you done picked the wrong damn place to stay
I'm a feeble old man
You're a young smart-ass
And there's a law-man on his way