AmCG
 Lather was thirty years old today,
 EmDC
They took away all of his toys.
 AmCG
His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,
 EmDC
About his old friends who'd stopped being boys.

 EmDFD
There was Harwitz E. Green, just turned thirty-three,
 AmEmD
His leather chair waits at the bank.
 EmDFD
And Seargent Dow Jones, twenty-seven years old,
 AmEmD
 Commanding his very own tank.

 CDEm
But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do,
 CDEm
To lie about nude in the sand,
 CDEm
Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps,
 DAmA
And thrashing the air with his hands.  

 AG
But wait, oh Lather's productive you know,
 AGA
He produces the finest of sound,
 G
Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose,
 AGA
 Snorting the best licks in town .....Am G D
 E
But that's all over...

 AmCG
 Lather was thirty years old today,
 EmDC
And Lather came foam from his tongue.
 AmCG
He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said,
 EmDC
Is it true that I'm no longer young?

 EmDFD
And the children call him famous,
 AmEmD
What the old men call insane,
 EmDFD
And sometimes he's so nameless,
 AmEmD
That he hardly knows which game to play...
 C
Which words to say...

 CDEm
And I should have told him, "No, you're not old."
 CDEmDAm
And I should have let him go on...smiling...babywide.


A Am C D E Em F G
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