Tom Waits : Swordfishtrombones

Bm

F#7

Bm

Rattle big black bones in the danger zone

F#7

Bm

G

C#m7b5

F#7

There's a rumblin' groan down below

Em

F#7

Bm

G

There's a big dark town, it's a place I've found

G7

F#7

Bm

There's a world going on underground They're alive, they're awake While the rest of the world is asleep Below the mine shaft roads, it will all unfold There's a world going on underground All the roots hang down, swing from town to town They are marching around down under your boots All the trucks unload beyond the gopher holes There's a world going on underground

Suggestion for bass-line

Bm

F#7

Bm

F#7

Bm

G

C#m7b5

F#7

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Em

F#7

Bm

G

G7

F#7

Bm

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Capo:

III

Em

Well with buckshot eyes and a purple heart

Em

I rolled down the national stroll

Am

And with a big fat paycheck strapped to my hip sack

Em

And a shore leave wristwatch underneath my sleeve

Bm7

In a Hong Kong drizzle on Cuban heels

Am

Em

I rowed down the gutter to the Blood Bank And I'd left all my papers on the Ticonderoga And was in a bad need of a shave And so I slopped at the corner on cold chow mein And shot billiards with a midget until the rain stopped And I bought a long sleeved shirt with horses on the front And some gum and a lighter and a knife And a new deck of cards with girls on the back And I sat down and wrote a letter to my wife

Em

And I said baby

Am

I'm so far away from home

Em

And I miss my baby so

Bm7

Am

I can't make it by myself

Em

I love you so Well I was pacing myself, trying to make it all last Squeezing all the life out of a lousy two day pass And I had a cold one at the Dragon With some Filipino floor show And talked baseball with a lieutenant over a Singapore sling And I wondered how the same moon outside over this Chinatown fair Could look down on Illinois and find you there And you know I love you, baby And I'm so far away from home And I'm so far away from home And I miss my baby so I can't make it by myself I love you so Shore leave... Shore leave...

B7b9 x2121x

D

B7b9

B7

She's my only true love

Em7

C#7

She's all that I think of

F#m

B7

Em7

A7sus4

A7

Look here in my wallet that's her

D

B7b9

B7

She grew up on a farm there

Em7

C#7/f

There's a place on my arm where

F#m

B7

Em7

A7sus4

A7

I've written her name next to mine

E7/g#

Em6/g

D/f#

Em/g

You see I just can't live without her

D/a

A#dim7

Bm

D7

And I'm her only boy

E7/g#

Em6/g

D/f#

Em/g

And she grew up outside McHenry

D/a

A7

D/a

G/a

In Johnsburg, Illinois

B5

C#5

B5

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Plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six And the black crow snuck through a hole in the sky And I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule And I made me a ladder from a pawn shop marimba And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Leaned it up against a dandelion tree Well I cooked them feathers on the iron spit And I filled me a satchel full of old pig corn And I beat me a Billy from an old french horn And kicked that mule to the top of the tree Kicked that mule to the top of the tree Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kick drum And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Well I slept in the hollow of a dry creek bed And I tore out the buckets from a red corvette Tore out the buckets from a red corvette Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothes line You know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy And I strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage Strum it loud just to rattle his cage I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six Whittle you into kindlin' Black crow, 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six

Well it's hotter than blazes and all the long faces There'll be no oasis for a dry local grazier There'll be no refreshment for a thirsty jackaroo From Melbourne to Adelaide on the overlander With newfangled buffet cars and faster locomotives The train stopped in Serviceton less and less often No there's nothing sadder than a town with no cheer VicRail decided the canteen was no longer necessary There no spirits, no bilge-water and eighty dry locals And the high noon sun beats a hundred and four There's a hummingbird trapped in a closed down shoe store This tiny Victorian rhubarb Kept the watering hole open for sixty-five years Now it's boilin' in a miserable March 21st Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse The train smokes down the xylophone There'll be no stopping here All you can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer No Bourbon, no Branchwater, though the townspeople here Fought the VicRail decree tooth and nail Now it's boilin' in a miserable March 21st Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse The train smokes down the xylophone There'll be no stopping here All ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer

D

G

D

G

Well, the eggs chase the bacon round the fryin' pan

D

Bm

Em

A7

And the whining dog pigeons by the steeple bell rope

D

G

D

G

And the dogs tipped the garbage pails over last night

D

Bm

Em

A7

And there's always construction work bothering you

D

G

In the neighbourhood

D

G

In the neighbourhood

D

A7

D

In the neighbourhood Friday's a funeral and Saturday's a bride Sey's got a pistol on the register side And the goddamn delivery trucks they make to much noise And we don't get our butter delivered no more In the neighbourhood... Well big Mambo's kicking his old grey hound And the kids can't get ice cream 'cause the market burned down And the newspaper sleeping bags blow down the lane And the goddamn flat-bed's got me pinned in again In the neighbourhood... There's a couple Filipino girls giggling by the church And the window is busted and the landlord ain't home And Butch joined the army yeah that's where he's been And the jackhammer's digging up the sidewalks again In the neighbourhood...

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Cm

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Cm

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F7

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C

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Frank settled down out in the valley And he hung his wild years on a nail he drove through his wife's forehead And he sold used office furniture out there on San Fernando Road And assumed a thirty thousand dollar loan at fifteen and a quarter percent Put a down-payment on a little two-bedroom place His wife was a spent piece of used jet trash Made good bloody marys, kept her mouth shut most of the time Had a little chihuahua named Carlos That had some kind of skin disease and was totally blind They had a thoroughly modern kitchen, self-cleaning oven, the whole bit Frank drove a little sedan They were so happy One night Frank was on his way home from work Stopped at the liquor store Picked up a couple of Mickey's Big Mouths Drank 'em in the car on the way to the Shell station He got a gallon of gas in a can Drove home, doused everything in the house, torched it Parked across the street, laughing, watching it burn All Halloween orange and chimney red Then Frank put on a top forty station Got on the Hollywood Freeway and headed north Never could stand that dog

Am

E

Well he came home from the war with a party in his head

Am

And a modified Brougham DeVille

E

And a pair of legs that opened up like butterfly wings

E

Am

And a mad dog that wouldn't sit still

Dm

Am

He went and took up with a Salvation Army Band girl

Dm

Am

Who played dirty water on a swordfishtrombone

Dm

Am

He went to sleep at the bottom of Tenkiller lake

B

E7

And he said, "Gee, but it's great to be home" Well he came home from the war with a party in his head And an idea for a fireworks display And he knew that he'd be ready with a stainless steel machete And a half a pint of Ballentine's each day And he holed up in room above a hardware store Crying nothing there but Hollywood tears And he put a spell on some poor little Crutchfield girl And stayed like that for 27 years Well he packed up all his expectations he lit out for California With a flyswatter banjo on his knee Lucky tiger in his angel hair and benzedrine for getting there They found him in a eucalyptus tree Lieutenant got him a canary bird and skanked her head with every word Chesterfield and moonbeams in a song He got 20 years for loving her from some Oklahoma governor Said everything this Doughboy does is wrong Now some say he's doing the obituary mambo And some say that he's hanging on the wall Perhaps this yarn's the only thing that holds this man together Some say he was never here at all Some say they saw him down in Birmingham Sleeping in a boxcar going by And if you think that you can tell a bigger tale I swear to God you'd have to tell a lie

Cm

He went down, down, down And the devil called him by name He went down, down, down Hangin' onto the back of a train He went down, down, down This boy went solid down Always chewed tobacco and the bathtub gin Always chewed tobacco and the bathtub gin

Db9

He went down, down, down

C9

B9

This boy went solid down

Cm

He went down! Well he went down, down, down And the devil jumped on his head He went down, down, down Stayin' in a broken down shed He went down, down, down Sleepin' in the devil's bed He went down, down, down Never listened to the words I said He went down, down, down, down He went down! Well he went down, down, down And the devil said where you been He went down, down, down He screamin' down around the bend Down, down, down This boy went solid down He was always cheatin' and he always told lies He was always cheatin' and he always told lies Down, down, down This boy went solid down He went down!

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Gm

D7

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x4

Gm

D7

Gm

D7

Davenports and kettle drums and swallow-tail coats

Gm

Bb/f

Eb9

D7

Table cloths and patent leather shoes

Gm

D7

Gm

D7

Bathing suits and bowling balls and clarinets and rings

Bb

Cm

Ab

D7

All this radio really needs is a fuse

Cm

F9

Bb7

Gm

A tinker, a tailor, a soldier's things

Cm

F9

Bb7

D

His rifle, his boots full of rocks

Gm

D7

Oh, and this one is for bravery

Gm

Eb9

Oh, and this one is for me

D

Gm

D7

And everything's a dollar in this box Cufflinks and hubcaps and trophies and paperbacks It's good transportation, but the brakes aren't so hot Neckties and boxing gloves, this jack-knife is rusted You can pound that dent out on the hood A tinker, a tailor, a soldier's things His rifle, his boots full of rocks Oh, and this one is for bravery Oh, and this one is for me And everything's a dollar in this box

E

I got a belly full of you And that Leavenworth stuff Now I'm gonna get out And I'm gonna get tough You been lying to me How could you crawl so low With some gin-soaked boy that you don't know I come home last night Full a fifth of Old Crow You said you goin' to your ma's But where the hell did you go? You went and slipped out nights You didn't think that I'd know With some gin-soaked boy that you don't know Well I would bet you as far As Oklahoma by now The dogs are barking out back And you're knittin' your brow Well I'm on your tail I sussed your MO From some gin-soaked boy that you don't know

Well I pulled on trouble's braids And I hid in the briars Out by the quick mud Stayin' away from the main roads Passin' out wolf tickets Downwind from the blood hounds And I pulled on trouble's braids And I lay by a cypress As quiet as a stone 'Til the bleeding stopped I blew the weather vane Off some old road house I built a fire in the Skeleton back seat of an old Tucker And I pulled on trouble's braids I spanked cold red mud Where the hornet stung deep And I tossed in the ditch In a restless sleep And I pulled on trouble's braids I hung my rain-soaked jacket On some old barbed wire Poured cold rusty water On a miserable fire I pulled on trouble's braids The creek was swollen by daybreak And I could just barely see And I floated downstream On an old dead tree And I pulled on trouble's braids I pulled on trouble's braids I pulled on trouble's braids

Tom Waits : Swordfishtrombones
1983

Underground

Shore Leave

Johnsburg, Illinois

16 Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six

Town With No Cheer

In The Neighborhood

Just Another Sucker On The Vine

Frank's Wild Years

Swordfishtrombone

Down, Down, Down

Soldier's Things

Gin Soaked Boy

Trouble's Braids

Tom Waits : Swordfishtrombones 1983

Underground

Shore Leave

Johnsburg, Illinois

16 Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six

Town With No Cheer

In The Neighborhood

Just Another Sucker On The Vine

Frank's Wild Years

Swordfishtrombone

Down, Down, Down

Soldier's Things

Gin Soaked Boy

Trouble's Braids

Tom Waits : Swordfishtrombones
1983