Father John Misty – Leaving LA

Father John Misty – Leaving LA Chords and Lyrics

Artist : Father John Misty
Song : Leaving LA

C/G          F      G
I was living on the hill,
                       F      C/G
By the water tower and hiking trails,
                         F      G
When the big one hit I’d have a seat,
                                        F        C/G
To watch masters abandon their dogs and dogs run free,
Em          Bdim7   Am
O baby it’s time to leave,
         G                          F   C/G
Take the van and the hearse down to New Orleans,
Em                          Bdim7     Am
Leave under the gaze of the billboard queens,
        G                              F         C/G
5 foot chicks with parted lips selling sweatshop jeans 

C/G                        F        G
These LA phonies and their bullshit bands,
                            F   C/G
Sound like dollar signs and Amy Grant,
                                       F     G
So reads the pulled quote from my last cover piece,
                            F         C/G
Entitled "The Oldest Man in Folk Rock Speaks”
Em                           Bdim7   Am
You can hear it all over the airwaves,
    G                        F     C/G
The manufactured gasp of the final days,
               Em                            Bdim7      Am
Someone should tell them ‘bout the time that they don’t have,
              G                       F        C/G
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless past 

Bb/F         Eb      F
I was living on the hill,
                       Eb      Bb/F
By the water tower and hiking trails,
                         Eb      F
When the big one hit I’d have a seat,
                                        Eb        Bb/F
To watch masters abandon their dogs and dogs run free,
Em          Bdim7   Am
O baby it’s time to leave,
         F                          Eb   Bb/F
Take the van and the hearse down to New Orleans,
Em                          Bdim7     Am
Leave under the gaze of the billboard queens,
        F                              Eb         Bb/F
5 foot chicks with parted lips selling sweatshop jeans 

Bb/F                        Eb        F
These LA phonies and their bullshit bands,
                            Eb   Bb/F
Sound like dollar signs and Amy Grant,
                                       Eb     F
So reads the pulled quote from my last cover piece,
                            Eb         Bb/F
Entitled "The Oldest Man in Folk Rock Speaks”
Em                           Bdim7   Am
You can hear it all over the airwaves,
    F                        Eb     Bb/F
The manufactured gasp of the final days,
               Em                            Bdim7      Am
Someone should tell them ‘bout the time that they don’t have,
              F                       Eb        Bb/F
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless past 

A/E          D      E
I was living on the hill,
                       D      A/E
By the water tower and hiking trails,
                         D      E
When the big one hit I’d have a seat,
                                        D        A/E
To watch masters abandon their dogs and dogs run free,
Em          Bdim7   Am
O baby it’s time to leave,
         E                          D   A/E
Take the van and the hearse down to New Orleans,
Em                          Bdim7     Am
Leave under the gaze of the billboard queens,
        E                              D         A/E
5 foot chicks with parted lips selling sweatshop jeans 

A/E                        D        E
These LA phonies and their bullshit bands,
                            D   A/E
Sound like dollar signs and Amy Grant,
                                       D     E
So reads the pulled quote from my last cover piece,
                            D         A/E
Entitled "The Oldest Man in Folk Rock Speaks”
Em                           Bdim7   Am
You can hear it all over the airwaves,
    E                        D     A/E
The manufactured gasp of the final days,
               Em                            Bdim7      Am
Someone should tell them ‘bout the time that they don’t have,
              E                       D        A/E
To praise the glorious future and the hopeless past 

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