On Any Other Day The Police
Play in the standard reggae-esque Police rhythm.
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On Any Other Day by The Police
[A]Theres a house on my s[A]treet, a[A]nd it looks real n[A]eat.
[F]I'm the chap who lives in [F]it.
Theres a tree on the sidewalk, theres a car by the door.
I'll go for a drive in it.
And when the wombat (??) comes, he will find me gone.
He'll look for a place to sit.
Chorus I:
[G]My w[C]ife has [A]burned the [D]scrambled [G]eggs.
T[C]he d[A]og's just [D]bit my [G]leg.
[C]My te[A]en-aged da[D]ughter ran a[G]way.
[C]My fi[A]ne young son[D] has turned ou[A]t gay.
Cut up my fingers in the door of my car.
How could I do it?
My wife is proud to tell me of her love affairs.
How could she do this to me?
Chorus I
Chorus II:
[A]And [G]it would [E]be [B/A]OK on a[A]ny ot[G]her d[E]ay. [B/A]X2
Throw down the morning papers, and spill my tea.
I don't know whats wrong with me.
The cups and plates are in a conspiracy.
I'm covered in misery.
Chorus I
Chorus II X4 (w/ Chipmunk-like voice: "Happy birthday dear daddy")
The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp.
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