Tono: B
F
Bb
Eb
F
I've seen a lot of sights and traveled many miles
Bb
Ebm
Eb
Shook a thousand hands and seen my share of smiles
Bb
Eb
F
I've caused some great concern and told one too many lies
Bb
F
And now I see the world through these sad, old, jaded eyes
Bb
Eb
So what if I threw a party and all my friends were there?
Bb
F
Acquaintances, relatives, the girls who never cared
Bb
Eb
You'll have a host of rowdy hooligans in a big line out the door
F
Side by side with Sister Barbara, Chief Wells and Bobby 'Orr
Bb
I'd invite the Flannigans
Eb
Replace the window you smashed out
Bb
F
I'd apologize the Sluggo for pissing on his couch
Bb
Eb
I'll see Mrs. McAuliffe and so many others soon
F
Then I'll say I'm sorry for what I did sleepwalking in her room
Bb
Eb
So what if I threw a party and invited Mayor Menino?
Bb
He'd tell you to get a permit
F
Well this time Tom I don't think so
Bb
It's a neighborhood reunion
Eb
But now we'd get along
F
Van Morrison would be there and he'd sing me one last song
Bb
Eb
With a backup band of bass players to keep us up all night
Bb
Three handsome four string troubadours
F
And Newton's own Fat Mike
Bb
Eb
I'll be in the can having a smoke with Garv and Johnny Fitz
F
But there's a back up in the bathroom
F
Cause the Badger's got the shits
Bb
Eb
You may bury me with an enemy in Mount Calvary
Bb
F
You can stack me on a pyre and soak me down with whiskey
Bb
Eb
Roast me to a blackened crisp and throw me in a pile
F
I could really give a shit - I'm going out in style
Bb
Eb
You can take my urn to Fenway spread my ashes all about
Bb
Or you can bring me down to Wolly Beach
F
And dump the sucker out
Bb
Eb
Burn me to a rotten crisp and toast me for a while
F
I could really give a shit - I'm going out in style
Bb
Make me up dress me up
Eb
Feed me a big old shot
Bb
Of embalming fluid highballs
F
So I don't start to rot
Bb
Now take me to McGreevy's
Eb
I wanna buy one final round
F
That cheap prick would peel an orange in his pocket
F
Then hurry up and suck 'em down
Bb
If there's a god the girls you loved
Eb
Will all come walking through the door
Bb
F
Maybe they'll feeld bad for me and this stiff will finally score
Bb
You've got the bed already
Eb
And the nerve and courage too
F
Cause I've be slugging from
F
A stash of Desi Queally's 1980s
F
Bathtub brew
Repeat Chorus--