Lather Jefferson Airplane
Beautiful song penned and performed by Grace Slick.
[Cm]Lather was th[Eb]irty years old to[Bb]day,
They t[Gm]ook away al[F]l of his t[Eb]oys.
His mo[Cm]ther sent news[Eb]paper clip[Bb]pings to him,
About his o[Gm]ld friends who'd sto[F]pped being b[Eb]oys.
There was Har[Gm]witz E. Gr[F]een, just tu[Ab]rned thirty-th[F]ree,
His le[Cm]ather chair wa[Gm]its at the b[F]ank.
And Ser[Gm]geant Dow Jo[F]nes, twenty-s[Ab]even years o[F]ld,
Comm[Cm]anding his v[Gm]ery own ta[F]nk.
But La[Eb]ther still fi[F]nds it a ni[Gm]ce thing to do,
To l[Eb]ie about n[F]ude in the s[Gm]and,
Drawing pic[Eb]tures of moun[F]tains that l[Gm]ook like bumps,
And thra[F]shing the air with his h[Cm]ands.
But w[C]ait, oh Lather's produ[Bb]ctive you know,
He pro[C]duces the fi[Bb]nest of so[C]unds,
Putting drumsticks on either si[Bb]de of his nose,
Sno[C]rting the b[Bb]est licks in to[C]wn,[Cm] [Ab] [F]
But th[G]at's all over...
La[Cm]ther was t[Eb]hirty years o[Bb]ld today,
And La[Gm]ther came f[F]oam from his to[Eb]ngue.
He lo[Cm]oked at me e[Eb]yes wide and pl[Eb]ainly said,
Is it t[Gm]rue that I'm [F]no longer yo[Eb]ung?
And the ch[Gm]ildren c[F]all him [Ab]fay-ay-m[F]ous,
what the o[Cm]ld men c[Gm]all in[F]sane,
And s[Gm]ome-ti[Gm]mes he's so n[Ab]ay-aym-le[F]ss,
That he h[Cm]ardly kn[Gm]ows which ga[F]me to play...
Which wo[Cm]rds to say...
And I s[Gm]hould have t[F]old him, "[Cm]No, you're not old."
And I s[Gm]hould have l[F]et him go [Cm]on...smi[F]ling...b[Cm]aby-wide.
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