Alright, some friends of mine, and myself got together and we came 
up with this little ditty and we like to call it "The Songwriter's
Lament"...and it goes something like this:

G                                D                         C
Well, the doc said, "Son, you've got to quit this life ya lead before
   G                             D                     C      D
ya die." I said, "I can't quit. It's all I know and I can't afford
    G                            D                       C
to die. And how'm I supposed to pay your bills when I'm six feet in
      G                                  D                C
the ground? And who in the hell's gonna feed my dog when I'm no 
 D        G
longer 'round?" 
G                                      D
I said, "Ain't there something you can do, doc? 
              C        G                                       D
Some kind of pill or remedy?" He said, "I ain't never heard of no 
                           C        D     G
drug that works to keep a man from being lazy." 
G                   D                           C
Huh, I said "Lazy? Now you just watch it, doc, cause I work really
 G                         D           C            D       G
hard. You see, from 10p.m. to 2a.m., everynight, I play my guitar.
G                               D                         C
Yeah, and I drink real hard and I smoke real hard, and I hardly
              G                           D 
have time to sleep. And lately I've been eatin' so hard, I can
 C      D      G
hardly see my feet."
G                      D               C                          G
Well, I sat down and pondered awhile 'bout what the good doc had said
                                D                C             D
And I thought real quitely to myself, "Ya know, maybe I'd be better
     G                              D
off dead." Now you see, a dead man don't hafta worry about the police
          C                     G                            D
for any warrants he might have out. And I'd no longer hafta hide
                                  C         D       G
from the credit card collecters tryin' to flush me out.
G                           D             C                     G
Yeah, bein' dead would be great. No more smoke-filled lungs or bars.
                            D                 C          D     
No more worryin' bout that liver disease you get from drinkin' too 
 G                     D                   C                      G
hard. No more playin' all night, no more hangovers that last all day.
                           D         C             D            G
No more meetin' beautiful women, no more rollin' around in the hay.

(or rollin' around...who wrote that?)
                                 D          C                     G
Who'm I kiddin'?? I don't wanna die. I got alot of things left to do.
                            D                         C
I got alot of drinkin' and smokin' and pickin' and grinnin' and 
          D        G
writin' songs for you.
               C
Well, I wanna live forever or atleast as long as I can. 
          G  
I wanna smoke them cigarettes, feel the burnin' in my lungs man.
          C      
I wanna drink lots of whiskey and get drunk and stupid and stoned.
             G        
And I wanna make love to my woman, feel the passion burn all night 

long. 
D               
Lord, don't take me now. You've gotta give me a little more time.
            C                                            D    C 
I've got a few loose ends down here to tie up, alotta worries on my 
 G
mind.
               C            
Well, I wanna live forever or atleast as long as I can. 
          G 
I wanna smoke them Marlboro lights, feel the burnin' in my lungs man.
          C
I wanna drink Wild Turkey and get drunk and stupid and stoned.
             G
And I wanna make love to my woman, feel the passion burn all night 

long. 
 D
Lord, don't take me now. You've gotta give me a little more time.
            C                                            D     C
I've got a few loose ends down here to tie up, alotta worries on my 
 G
mind.
            C                                                 D
I've got a few loose ends down here to tie up, and Lord, you know
          C        G
I can't afford to die.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Within every G chord that is played, there is a run being played.

e       3
B       3
G
D   0h2
A       2
E 3     3 

enjoy :)
mammycc_05 at yahoo.com