Guitar Man Upstairs

I think I'm gonna call the P[A]olice, [D]I hear something upst[A]airs
I know good and well there ain't nothing go[B]od going on up t[E]here
[D]There's probably ten or more of them sittin' all [A]around   [D]
[A]Smokin' that stuff and d[E]rinkin' that hard liquor [A]down

I've been living in this [A]city   [D]  since the day I was b[A]orn
I've seen good times come and go and I've s[B]een bad times drag[E] on
[D]I've seen white and black folks alike get t[A]reated just like[D] sin
[A]And every year or so I see a [E]new truck load of [D]white trash movin' [A]in

[D]When I was sixteen I had a little [A]trouble with the law

He said "Boy come here" I said "Boy yourself
I a[B]in't done nothing wron[E]g"
[D]He grabbed me by the arm and He w[A]ent upside my [D]head
Nob[A]ody saw nothing
But I g[E]ot a little spot where my [D]hair ain't grown back [A]yet

I used to have me a woman and a pretty fine home
But it took so much to keep them both going I was always out and gone
I came home one afternoon to get me change of clothes
Caught a quick walkin' slick talkin' guitar picker
Headin' out my back door

Now I'm proud to say I ain't never been no violent man
But I'd sure be rotting in jail today if I'd had me a gun in my hand
I went inside threw her clothes on the floor and laid a suitcase across the bed
Not a word got spoke not a lick got throwed
And my woman ain't come back yet

Now I live in this building with the punks and the freaks
And I don't do much of nothing except go to work, come home, and drink
So guitar man you done picked the wrong damn place to stay
I'm a feeble old man
You're a young smart-ass
And there's a law-man on his way