Guys, Girls, Guitars

There's a guy singing in the edge of the room

Making sounds through a face like a prune

He's got them fancy checkered pants and a chip in his tooth

Oh no, yeah, yeah, yeah

Suffocating from patchouli and smoke

Here's the fifty-first song that he wrote

About the girl who split fifty weeks ago

Oh no, yeah, yeah, yeah

And there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder

The patented moves growing colder

The seventh chord just keeps getting older

Oh my soul, just hit me if I get on a roll

But this all sounded so good in the bedroom cold

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah

But its only a 2 AM tune

With a bridge lifted from "My Aim Is True"

From the setlist drink to the practice room

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah

But there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder

The patented moves growing colder

The seventh chord just keeps getting older

And he knows just as sure as this microphone stinks

There's a change coming through and he ain't going home alone tonight

And there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder

The seventh chord just keeps getting older

Is it me or is the room getting colder

Oh, we're going down, but don't it sound sweet

Feel the dust building up at our feet

The seventh chord just keeps getting older