| F# | |
| Staring out my window |
| Eb | |
| Watching the cars go rolling by |
| B | C# | |
| My friends are gone, I've got nothing to | do |
| So I sit here patiently |
| Watching the clock tick so slowly |
| Gotta get away or my brain will explode |
| B | F# | C# | |
| Give me something to | do to kill some | time |
| Take me to that place that I call home |
| Take away the strains of being lonely |
| Take me to the tracks of Christie Road |
| See the hills from afar |
| Standing on my beat up car |
| The sun went down and the night fills the sky |
| Now I feel like me once again |
| As the train comes rolling in |
| Smoked my boredom gone, slapped my brains up so high |
| F# | E | B | E |
| F# | Bb | E | |
| Moth | er stay | out of my way |
| Of that place we go |
| We'll always seem to find our way |
| To Christie Road |
| B | E | F# | |
| If there's | one thing | that | need |
| That makes me feel complete |
| So I go to Christie Road |
| E | |
| It's | home |
| B | |
| It's | home . . . |
| F# | E | B | E |