Gangsters

[C#]/[Bb] - x46634
        *     - x4666x (i don't know what this chord is called!)

    E-------B--------|F
    E-------B--------|F
    E----------------|B

       To [B]lick your wounds and crack through the [Abm]morphine sweet darkness,
      bloodies your eyes and fouls your kiss it's you I [E]can't forget, I ain't
      lost you yet[B].
      Jumped away from the lens, ground to a [Abm]point love's blind pretence, burst
      all those syphilltic cysts that rot the love [E]of God, stood where Moses
      trod, the lucky sod, you g[C#]et,[Bb] I ain't caught it ye[E]t, they cast they're
      clever n[B]et, but I ain't ca[Abm]ught it yet.
      How can I [C#]for[Bb]get? How can I [E]regret? They cast they're clever [B]net but I
      ain't [Abm]caught it yet.
      [C#]Gan[Bb]g....sters [E]don't cry, when they [B]shoot you to [Abm]die, so keep the w[F]hites of
      their [E]eyes in your [B]sights.

        (SAME CHORDS AS BEFORE....)
      Your staring buck naked at the world, no fig leaf needed, pure as gold,
      burst all this complicated bliss that rots the love of God who stood where
      Moses trod the lucky sod.
      And fizz the first touch of your tongue, flinched like the grip of moist
      uncle, sniff sweet cocaine and disco sick, cos I can drink to this, every
      shot of bliss, Aw shucks. Aw shucks hits, I ain't caught it yet, they cast
      their clever net, but I ain't caught it yet. How can I forget? How can I
      forget?you cast your clever net but I ain't caught it yet. Aw shucks, Aw
      shucks.

    *-------E-------B---------|Abm
    *-------------------------|E

      [C#]Gan[Bb]g....sters [E]don't cry, when they [B]shoot you to [Abm]die, so keep the w[F]hites of
      their [E]eyes in your [B]sights.

      [C#]Lyi[Bb]ng in the sun like a fat dog with you is worth [B]cancer. The few
      pleasures, how [C#]whi[Bb]te my clean ass could be, there yet a neat Media label
      to describe you and me and [B]this age. Well fuck them. On the [C#]str[Bb]eets it's

      an advert real people pickled to the bone by the vultures of culture,
      [B]golf, hold on to yourself, so [C#]han[Bb]g on,
      Hang on to [B]yourself,
      [F#]Come on, come on, [E]come on.
      [F#]Make it feel like stealers [E]tongue, a real flesh [B]eater.
      [C#]For[Bb]tune smiles on the the whites of the teeth, so white, so clean, so bite
      me bite me bite me [B]as aniseed candy.
      And in the [C#]par[Bb]ks they skate to flow it all out, It's all out, they're all
      out, they're all out I'm so glad they'[B]re all out.

        !)