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Self Destructive Zones

Drive-By Truckers
Version1
90

Chords in this song

Strum
D-DU-UDU
It  was 1990 give or take  I don't remember
 when the news  of revolution hit the air
 The girls  hadn't even started taking  down our posters
 when the boys  started cutting off their hair
 The radio  stations all decided  angst was finally
 old enough  it ought to have a proper home
Dead  fat or rich nobody’s left  to bitch
 about the goings'  on in self destructive zones
 The night the practice room caught fire
 there were rumors of a dragon headed straight for Muscle Shoals
 "Stoner tries to save an amplifier"
 and it's like the dragon's side of the story is never told
 When the dream and the man and the girls hang around long enough
 to make you think it's coming true,
 it's easier to let it all die a fairy tale,
 than admit that something bigger is passing through
 The hippies rode a wave putting smiles on faces,
 that the devil wouldn’t even put a shoe
 Caught between a generation dying from its habits,
 and another thinking rock and roll was new
 Till the pawn shops were packed like a backstage party,
 hanging full of pointy ugly cheap guitars
 And the young'uns all turned to karaoke,
 hanging all their wishes upon disregarded stars
 My Grandaddy's shotgun is locked in a closet
 and it never shot a thing that could have lived
 An old man decided that you couldn't choose your poison
 till you're nearly old enough to vote for him
 They turned what was into something so disgusting
 even wild dogs would disregard the bones
 Dead fat or rich nobody’s left to bitch
 about the goings' on in self destructive zones

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Readable chord sheet for Self Destructive Zones by Drive-By Truckers

[G]It was 1990 give or [D]take I don't remember
when the [C]news of revolution hit the [G]air
The [G]girls hadn't even started t[D]aking down our posters
when the [C]boys started cutting off their [G]hair
The [D]radio stations all [Am]decided angst was finally
old [C]enough it ought to have a proper [G]home
[G]Dead fat or rich nobody’s [D]left to bitch
about the [C]goings' on in self destructive [G]zones

The night the practice room caught fire
there were rumors of a dragon headed straight for Muscle Shoals
"Stoner tries to save an amplifier"
and it's like the dragon's side of the story is never told
When the dream and the man and the girls hang around long enough
to make you think it's coming true,
it's easier to let it all die a fairy tale,
than admit that something bigger is passing through

The hippies rode a wave putting smiles on faces,
that the devil wouldn’t even put a shoe
Caught between a generation dying from its habits,
and another thinking rock and roll was new
Till the pawn shops were packed like a backstage party,
hanging full of pointy ugly cheap guitars
And the young'uns all turned to karaoke,
hanging all their wishes upon disregarded stars

My Grandaddy's shotgun is locked in a closet
and it never shot a thing that could have lived
An old man decided that you couldn't choose your poison
till you're nearly old enough to vote for him
They turned what was into something so disgusting
even wild dogs would disregard the bones
Dead fat or rich nobody’s left to bitch
about the goings' on in self destructive zones

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