| ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// | |
| // Mike A. Hall // "If I don't die by Thursday, // |
| // mhall@moe.coe.uga.edu // I'll be roarin' Friday night." // |
| // // --J.Buffett // |
| ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// |
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| Life Is Just A Tire Swing |
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| (Words and Music by Jimmy Buffett (c) 1974) |
| Intro: Bm |
| G | A | D | |
| I | remember the | smell | of the creosote plant, |
| E | F#m | Gdim | E7 | A | Bm | Cdim | A | |
| when w | e'd have to | eat on | Easter | with my | crazy old | uncle and | aunt. |
| G | A | D | |
| They lived in a | big house | Antebellum style, |
| G | D | G | D | |
| and the | wind would | blow across the | old bay | ou, |
| A | D | |
| and | I was a tranquil little | child. |
| Chorus: |
| D | Bm | |
| Life was just a t | ire swing. |
| G | D | |
| 'Jambalaya' was the | only song I c | ould sing. |
| G | D | |
| Black-berry pickin', | eatin' fried chicken, |
| G | D | A | |
| and I | never knew a | thing about | pain; |
| Bm | |
| Life was just a | tire swing. |
| 2. |
| In a few summers my folks packed me off to camp; |
| yeah, me and my cousin' Baxter in our pup tent with a lamp. |
| And in a few days Baxter went home, and he left me by myself. |
| And I knew that I'd stay, it was better that way, |
| and I could get along without any help. |
| (2nd chorus) |
| Life was just a tire swing. |
| 'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing. |
| Chasin' after sparrows with rubber-tipped arrows, |
| knowin' I could never hurt a thing, |
| and life was just a tire swing. |
| (then continue) |
| Bm | G | F#m | Em | D | |
| And I've | never been west of | New Orleans nor | east of Pensa | cola. |
| G | F#m | E7 | A | |
| My | only contact with the | outside world was an | R.C.A. Vic | trola. |
| Bm | A | |
| And | Elvis would sing and then I'd dream a | bout expensive cars, |
| E7 | |
| and | who would've figured twenty years later |
| A | E7 | F#m7 | |
| I'd be | rubbin' shoulders | with the stars. |
| Bm | |
| Life was just a | tire swing. |
| 3. |
| Then the other morning on some Illinois road |
| I fell asleep at the wheel, |
| But was quickly wakened up by a 'Ma Bell' telephone pole, |
| and a bunch of Grant Wood faces screaming 'Is he still alive?', |
| But through the window I could see it hangin' from a tree, |
| and I knew that I had survived. |
| (3rd chorus) |
| Life was just a tire swing. |
| 'Jambalaya's still the best song that I sing. |
| Black-berry pickin', eatin' fried chicken, |
| and I finally learned a lot about pain, |
| 'cause life is just a tire swing. |
| Life was just a tire swing. |
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| Chord chart: |
| F#m - |xx3222| F#m7 - |xx2222| Gdim - |xx2323| E7 - |o2o1oo| |
| Bm - |xxo432| Cdim - |xx1212| Em7 - |o2oooo| Em - |o22ooo| |
| (This song is published in the book "The Songs of Jimmy Buffett" |
| by CPP/Belwin Music Company.) |