Sunday Morning Paper

Intro F Bb F C F F Sunday morning paper said F7 "Rock 'n' Roll is surely dead!" Bb F Somethin' hit me deep down in my soul C Cmaj7 C7 F Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll verse 1 Bb Never one time did I ever F Dream you wouldn't live forever Dm C Cmaj7 C7 Betcha never planned on gettin' old F Looked like you were born to lose F7 Your slicked back hair and your prison blues Bb F Mother tried to keep you from that row C Cmaj7 C7 F Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll Instrumental F Bb F C F verse 2 F Well you showed up from the underground F7 Bakersfield, Tulsa-town Bb F An inch away from needin' crowd control C F Lord I know, Oh Lord I know! verse 3 Bb Women, wine and Benzedrine F Out to break the Big Machine Dm C Gettin' off the low-down for the truth Bb C Fightin' at it fingernail and tooth verse 4 F Somewhere between 10 and 2 F7 Someone's wishin' they were you Bb F Make a livin' off your highs and lows C F Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll Instrumental F Bb F C F Verse 5 Bb Never one time did I ever F Dream you wouldn't live forever Dm C Betcha never planned on gettin' old Bb Bangin' on a baby grand F Play that thing to beat the band Dm C Screamin' out for everything you're worth Bb C Well you dressed up like the greatest show on Earth Outro F Sunday morning paper said F7 "Rock 'n' Roll is surely dead!" Bb F I don't think I'll ever let it go C F Even though it's just Rock 'n' Roll F Bb F C F x4