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Version 1 Version 2capo fret 4 but chords given as open shapes intro : pick around : Am x02210 , Dm7 x00211 , Am x02210 , G xx0033 [Am]Lather was [C]thirty years [G]old today, They [Em]took away [D]all of his [C]toys. His [Am]mother sent [C]newspaper [G]clippings to him, About his [Em]old friends who'd [D]stopped being [C]boys. There was [Em]Harwitz E. [D]Green, just [F]turned thirty-[D]three, His [Am]leather chair [Em]waits at the [D]bank. And [Em]Seargent Dow [D]Jones, twenty-[F]seven years [D]old, [Am]Commanding his [Em]very own [D]tank. But [C]Lather still [D]finds it a [Em]nice thing to do, To [C]lie about [D]nude in the [Em]sand, Drawing [C]pictures of [D]mountains that [Em]look like bumps, And [D]thrashing the air with his [Am]hands. [A] But [A]wait, oh Lather's [G]productive you know, He [A]produces the [G]finest of [A]sound, Putting drumsticks on either [G]side of his nose, [A]Snorting the [G]best licks in [A]town .....Am G D But [E]that's all over... [Am]Lather was [C]thirty years [G]old today, And [Em]Lather came [D]foam from his [C]tongue. He [Am]looked at me [C]eyes wide and [G]plainly said, Is it [Em]true that I'm [D]no longer [C]young? And the [Em]children [D]call him [F]fam[D]ous, What the [Am]old men [Em]call in[D]sane, And [Em]some[D]times he's so [F]name[D]less, That he [Am]hardly [Em]knows which [D]game to play... Which [C]words to say... And I [C]should have [D]told him, [Em]"No, you're not old." And I [C]should have [D]let him go [Em]on...[D]smiling...baby[Am]wide.