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