| D | |
| Black faces pressed against the glass |
| G | D | |
| Where the w | ind leaned its we | ight |
| Wind blows scars and top down cars |
| E | A | |
| All sh | are one western tr | ait |
| G | D | |
| S | adness leaks through t | ear stained cheeks |
| F#m | G | |
| From w | inos to dime store J | ews |
| D | |
| Probably don't know they g | ave me |
| A7 | D | |
| These l | ate John Garfield bl | ues |
| Verse 2: |
| D | |
| Midnight fell on Franklin street |
| G | D | |
| T | he lamp bulbs's always b | roke |
| For the life of me i could not see |
| E | A | |
| But i h | eard a brand new j | oke |
| G | D | |
| Tw | o man were standing on | a bridge |
| F#m | G | |
| One j | umped and screamed you l | ose |
| D | |
| Just left the odd man h | olding |
| A7 | D | |
| These l | ate John Garfield bl | ues |
| Verse 3: |
| D | |
| I'm going away to the last resort |
| G | D | |
| In a w | eek or two real s | oon |
| Where the fish don't bite but once a night |
| E | A | |
| In the d | ark light of the m | oon |
| G | D | |
| H | orses scream their nightm | are dreams |
| F#m | G | |
| And the d | ead men all wear sh | oes |
| D | |
| 'Cause everybody's da | ncing |
| A7 | D | |
| These l | ate John Garfield bl | ues |
| Thanks to David M. Potter (dmp12@cornell.edu) for the lyrics. |
| Perret Charles-Amir : perret@math.univ-mlv.fr |