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| C | |
| Me and Jiggs staring at the cieling |
| Am | |
| The stars | above the radar range |
| F | |
| Songs from a station wagon laying foundations |
| G | |
| On the | shadows of over passing planes |
| C | |
| And Im | feeling good at seven o'clock |
| Am | |
| We're gonna | drive cross the county line |
| F | |
| And find | Saturday nights like a orphan child |
| G | |
| That the | good days left behind |
| Dm | G | |
| And Im not | sure we can make it | stay |
| Dm | G | G7 | |
| Suns going | down and its the end of the | day |
| Me and friends sitting in park |
| Drinking beer underneath the trees |
| Lying on your back as the sun goes down |
| You know it's perfect cause you have to leave |
| On a Saturday night in a town like this |
| I forget all my songs about trains |
| In a bar with a jukebox and you on my arm |
| Heaven and earth are pretty much the same |
| And Im not sure we can make it stay |
| Suns going down and its the end of the day |
| C | Am | F | G |
| Later on sitting on the roof |
| Talking like the night could last all night |
| Like we are all half crazy |
| And all at least half alright |
| Sitting on the porch singing Townes Van Zandt |
| We play guitar to burn off the hours |
| 'Til we climb the fences at the edge of town |
| And paint our names on the water towers |
| And Im not sure we can make it stay |
| Suns going down and its the end of the day |
| C Am F G end on C |