Gotta Lotta Walls chords by Atmosphere
Verse 1
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Dialed
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up his homie Murs on the telephone
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Gotta talk to somebody who can
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tell him what the hell is wrong
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Brain freezing up, he don't
know what to do
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But the people that know him
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know that it ain't nothing new
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Catch five rings,
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then an answering machine
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Hang up on the beep,
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stare up towards the ceiling
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Stood up to remember that
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he slept fully- dressed
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So he grabbed his keys and put
Ebm
a hat on his rat's nest
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Stepped up to that big outside
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Somebody once said "Today's
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a good day to die."
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But he never really was
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a big fan of their work
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So he starts up the walk
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by kicking sand in the dirt
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A friend to the strangers,
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a stranger to friends
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He'll take a coffee and a pack of cigar
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ettes when you have a minute
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Handle it. Paid up. The change,
you can keep it
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He's a sucker for the morning
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smile and summer cleavage
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If you knew him better he'd ask
for some time
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'cause he's looking for a
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reservoire to empty his mind
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And there's only so much
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he can put in a song
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Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what
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the hell is wrong
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Verse 2
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(Hook 2X) And
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this house has gotta lotta walls
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But only very few mean
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anything to you
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And this house has gotta lotta walls
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But only very few mean anything to you
Verse 3
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No shop value to titillate
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Far from shallow, so get it straight
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Blacktop, sidewalk,and the street
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'cause life is priceless
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and talk is cheap
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And as he sits (as he sits) in
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his four- cornered room
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Following a tune, born to consume
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Carefully learning and analyzing
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the lyrics you use
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Finally realizing that humil
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ity is a bruise
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Scared love don't make none
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If these walls could speak,
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they would peep about the fake ones
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Watching this man,
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falling off of his plan-
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Underachievin' just so he can understand.
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G#
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(Crazy reverse speech.)
Verse 4
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(Hook) So, who did your tattoos?
That's nice
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And who built your tabboos?
That's life
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If he had a glass pipe,
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he would smash it and use it to slash his wrists
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But someone already beat him to it
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He would fingerpaint you
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a picture with his blood
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A self- portrait, dramatic and morbid
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But the odds of you finding any
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appreciation are too slim-
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Keeps his outlook grim
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Tap his foot to the rhythm
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of original sin
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Throw his balls to the wind trying
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to know down these pins
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He'll keep swinging from
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the hair above his chin
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Till he finds his soul in the fifty cent bin
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The price of the payphone escalates
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Fake smile when he takes
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home one of his dates
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He could write another hate-
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poem for you to break
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Or maybe stay calm and wait
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for that big earthquake
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Still surrounded by the fire and the water
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Still trying to honor this
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empire's daughter
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Still answering questions
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you're afraid to ask
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Still be lieving that God's gonna save his ass
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Interlude 1
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Verse 5
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(Hook) If
you knew him better he'd
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ask for some time
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'cause he's looking for a reser
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voire to empty his mind
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And there's only so much
E
he can put in a song
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Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong
Outro 1
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Gotta Lotta Walls
Atmosphere
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