Seventeener (17th and 37th) The Lawrence Arms
Song: Seventeener (17th and 37th)
I've included the two versions: one without a capo (electric), and one with (acoustic).
Tabbed by ear by Blinkaholic
Chords: E = -799-- ; B = -244-- ; C# = -466-- ; A = -022-- ; Eb = -698--
[E] I never[B] wanted to die old,[C#]
But it's too late now,[A]
My heart has grown so cold.[E]
And the corpse I leave behind[B]
Ain't gonna be,[C#]
No pretty boy[A]
It's a sick sack of disea[E]se.
We thought about[Eb]
Ways we'd love to go.[C#]
High and b[B]eautiful,[A]
And fucking in the s[E]now.
On New Years D[Eb]ay or Christmas Eve,[C#]
On a warm November n[B]ight buried beneath the orange l[A]eaves.
It's a f[B]ew dreams on the ways that we could l[E]eave.
My h[E]eart got kicked [Eb]out of all its h[C#]omes,
And d[E]ying young just d[Eb]idn't work and so [C#]I guess I'm dying o[A]ld
And there ain't n[B]owhere left to g[C#]o,
'Cause a[A]ll my loves would r[B]ather be a[E]lone.
And yesterday [B] I woke up to find,[C#]
The black in my b[A]eard had turn to whit[E]e.
And the pretty girls [B] that used to smile at me,[C#]
Just stared off straight a[A]head or looked down at their fe[C#]et.
So tonight [A] I'll sit up here[E]
With these street light[B]s and these seventeen bee[C#]rs.
Straight from the page[A] of a teenage diar[E]y,
Underneath these shitty s[B]tars like I was sevent[A]een.
(I m[B]ean)
That my h[E]eart got kicked o[Eb]ut of all its h[C#]omes,
And d[E]ying young just d[Eb]idn't work and so [C#]I guess I'm dying o[A]ld
And there ain't n[B]owhere left to g[C#]o,
'Cause a[A]ll my loves would r[B]ather be a[E]lone.
[A] And there ain't n[B]owhere left to g[C#]o,
'Cause a[A]ll my loves would r[B]ather be a[E]lone.
Artist: The Lawrence Arms
Song: Seventeener (17th and 37th)
Capo: 4th fret
Chords: C = -32010 ; G = 320003 ; Am = -02210 ; F = 133211 ; G/B = -20010
[C] I never[G] wanted to die old,[Am]
But it's too late now,[F]
My heart has grown so cold.[C]
And the corpse I leave behind[G]
Ain't gonna be,[Am]
No pretty boy[F]
It's a sick sack of disea[C]se.
We thought about[G/B]
Ways we'd love to go.[Am]
High and b[G]eautiful,[F]
And fucking in the s[C]now.
On New Years [G/B]Day or Christmas Eve,[Am]
On a warm November n[G]ight buried beneath the orange l[F]eaves.
It's a f[G]ew dreams on the ways that we could l[C]eave.
My h[C]eart got kicked [G/B]out of all its ho[Am]mes,
And d[C]ying young just d[G/B]idn't work and so [Am]I guess I'm dying o[F]ld
And there ain't n[G]owhere left to g[Am]o,
'Cause a[F]ll my loves would r[G]ather be a[C]lone.
And yesterday [G] I woke up to find,[Am]
The black in my b[F]eard had turn to whit[C]e.
And the pretty girls [G] that used to smile at me,[Am]
Just stared off straight a[F]head or looked down at their fe[Am]et.
So tonight [F] I'll sit up here[C]
With these street light[G]s and these seventeen bee[Am]rs.
Straight from the page[F] of a teenage diar[C]y,
Underneath these shitty s[G]tars like I was sevent[F]een.
(I m[G]ean)
That my h[C]eart got kicked [G/B]out of all its h[Am]omes,
And d[C]ying young just [G/B]didn't work and so [Am]I guess I'm dying o[F]ld
And there ain't n[G]owhere left to [Am]go,
'Cause a[F]ll my loves would r[G]ather be a[C]lone.
[F] And there ain't n[G]owhere left to [Am]go,
'Cause a[F]ll my loves would r[G]ather be a[C]lone.
END
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