Standard (EADGBE)

I see fingers hands and shades of faces.

Reachin up, but not quite touchin the promised land

I see fingers, hands, and shades of faces,

Reachin up, but not quite touchin the promised land,

I hear pleas and prayers, and desperate whispers sayin,

Oh lord, please give us a helping hand

(all harmonics on twelfth, let ring)

Yeah yeah yeah

Way down in the background, I can see the frustrated souls of cities burnin,

And on across the water, I can see weapons barkin out to stand down,

And up in the clouds, I can imagine UFO’s chuckling to themselves, laughin they sayin,

“Those people so uptight, they sure know how to make a mess”

Yeah

Solo

 Well, back at the saloon my tear mix in mildew with my drink,

I can’t really tell my feet from the sawdust on the floor,

Far as I know, they may even try to wrap me up in cellophane and sell me,

Brothers help me, and don’t worry ‘bout lookin at the score.

Yeah yeah yeah.