alternate chording
Last night I dreamt of you, Abbie Hoffman peddling your books,
I gave five bucks to you, the other kids just gave you dirty looks.
I said "I'm sorry it didn't work out quite the way you planned."
You said, "That's silly boy, the revolution is at hand."
And if you got a ten spot brother, I got a dime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Last night I dreamt of you, Pepe Lopez strung out on a stage,
It don't even look like you, smiling like sawed-off twenty gauge.
I still remember the Telecaster down around your knees,
It's late November and I think I smell tequila on the breeze.
And if you got the Cuervo honey, I got the lime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
And if you got the shotgun honey, I got the crime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Old 97s - Desperate Times Lyrics
Old 97s - Desperate Times Lyrics
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alternate chording
Last night I dreamt of you, Abbie Hoffman peddling your books,
I gave five bucks to you, the other kids just gave you dirty looks.
I said "I'm sorry it didn't work out quite the way you planned."
You said, "That's silly boy, the revolution is at hand."
And if you got a ten spot brother, I got a dime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Last night I dreamt of you, Pepe Lopez strung out on a stage,
It don't even look like you, smiling like sawed-off twenty gauge.
I still remember the Telecaster down around your knees,
It's late November and I think I smell tequila on the breeze.
And if you got the Cuervo honey, I got the lime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
And if you got the shotgun honey, I got the crime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Last night I dreamt of you, Abbie Hoffman peddling your books,
I gave five bucks to you, the other kids just gave you dirty looks.
I said "I'm sorry it didn't work out quite the way you planned."
You said, "That's silly boy, the revolution is at hand."
And if you got a ten spot brother, I got a dime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Last night I dreamt of you, Pepe Lopez strung out on a stage,
It don't even look like you, smiling like sawed-off twenty gauge.
I still remember the Telecaster down around your knees,
It's late November and I think I smell tequila on the breeze.
And if you got the Cuervo honey, I got the lime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
And if you got the shotgun honey, I got the crime,
These are desperate, desperate times.
Writer: RHETT MILLER, MURRY HAMMOND, PHILIP WAYNE PEEPLES, KENDALL DEWAYNE BETHEA
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Performed By: Old 97s
Written by: RHETT MILLER, MURRY HAMMOND, PHILIP WAYNE PEEPLES, KENDALL DEWAYNE BETHEA