Robbie Fulks Roots Rock Weirdos tab
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ROOTS ROCK WEIRDOES (Fulks) -- in Em VS1 Em B7 The town was hardly stirring, the night clubs all were closed Am Em C9 B9 Em C9-B9 Only a washed-up cover band hittin' the stage at Joe's Em Am The guitar hit the first bar of "Secret Agent Man" Am7 G B7 Em A door in the back flew open, and into the room they ran! CH A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, up from the underground D B G A Em Starved for a Tele or a B3 -- any out-of-fashion sound A7 G A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, out of their holes they come D A Em Dressed up like it's 1951. VS2 Em B7 Well, they looked the band gear over and they noted with delight Am Em C9 B9 Em C9-B9 The guitar amp was a Bassman, and the bass man played upright Em Am Then they looked 'round at each other, and they cried, "We Are The Best! Am7 G B7 Em For we like unpopular music, and just look at the way we're dressed!" CH2 A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, slapping each others' backs D B G A Em Using the hepcat language they thought made them sound black A7 G A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, smoking their Camels straight D A Em Makin' sure there was nothing up to date. VS3 Em B7 Now Joe, he was slow to anger, but that barkeep found it hard Am Em C9 B9 Em C9-B9 Just to watch the air grow toxic with smoke and self-regard Em Am So he jumped up on a barstool and he shouted out loud and clear: Am7 G B7 Em "I don't know just what you weirdoes want, but I don't want you in here!" VS4 Em B7 The room grew deathly silent, then up from the stinking ranks Am Em C9 B9 Em B9 Rose a homely social worker in a bowling shirt marked "Hank" Em Am And dropping the fake black diction, he said, "Since you enquired, Am7 G C9 B7 Em B7 Em Let me take stock of what we roots rock -- ahem! -- 'weirdoes' desire...." VS5 Em Am Fishnets for every woman, and lipstick as red as flame G B Em B For every man a tatoo, a Chevy, and a dumb nickname Em Am Cigarettes in every shirtsleeve, black leather on every back, G B Em B Fanzines in every bookstore, LPs in each record rack. VS6 Em Am Three chords in every pop song! Four white guys in each band! G B Em A ruthless media empire to saturate this land B Em Am Then, with our alt.country comrades, and our brothers in neo-swing, G B Em We'll reclaim music from the kids for our fat dead cracker king!" CH3 A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, Christ! They're everywhere! D B G A Em A little Doc Pomus in their hearts and dark pomade in their hair A7 G A7 Em Roots rock weirdoes, out of their holes they come D A Em Dressed up like it's 1951.