You Sound Like Louis Burdett
WhitlamsVersion1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
same chords):
Had a little bit to drink
There's a little thing I wanted to do out east
Nothing too emotional, my good miss
I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes
Stop talking 'bout the years -
you sound like Louis Burdett
And we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles
and down the streets the weeks roll by.
( )
I'm chewing ice and grinning
I'm spewing up and spinning
It's biliousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen.
Hey you, lose that friend before we go anywhere
What? Someone might see you alone?
Stop bagging out the band,
You sound like Louis Burdett
All my friends are fuckups
but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete
Telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How down the street the weeks roll by.
The moment the night wears off the bombsite reappears
They're all asleep but the morning tastes like wine
It tastes like wine in Tempe
I feel so good I, just might, wake him up
Pat him on the bald head - tell me about a dream, Louis
Something obscene, Louis
Your life's an open magazine, Louis.
Solo over same chords.
I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub
Sex is everywhere but no-where around me
By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating
Never rains in Tempe but the planes remind me of family money
And the lack down here
Stop talking, frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis Burdett
And we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles
and down the streets the weeks roll by.
All my friends are fuckups
but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete
Telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How down the street the weeks roll by.
same chords as chorus):
Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around
Terror, like charity, begins at home
Chris don't like madness, but madness likes him
He's got a finger in his chest saying how it should have been
...and how down the street the weeks, roll by.
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Readable chord sheet for You Sound Like Louis Burdett by Whitlams
[Ebm] [B] [Bb] same chords): Had a little bit to drink There's a little thing I wanted to do out east Nothing too emotional, my good miss I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes Stop talking 'bout the years - you sound like Louis Burdett [F#]And we roll [Ab]on to my back [B]shed Play some [C#]poker, scratch my [F#]head [F#]Look at the [Ab]sky and spot the [B]planes Where would I[C#] go on holiday[F#]s? Roll with the [Ab]punches down the a[E]isles and down the str[B]eets the [Bb]weeks roll b[Ebm]y. [B] [Bb] ([Ebm] [B] [Bb]) I'm chewing ice and grinning I'm spewing up and spinning It's biliousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen. Hey you, lose that friend before we go anywhere What? Someone might see you alone? Stop bagging out the band, You sound like Louis Burdett [F#]All my friends are [Ab]fuckups but they're f[B]un to have [C#]around Banana c[F#]hairs out on the c[Ab]oncrete Telling s[B]tories to the [C#]stars How Gemin[F#]is love wooden dr[Ab]agons, yeah H[E]ow down the stree[B]t th[Bb]e weeks roll by[Ebm]. [B] [Bb] [Ab]The moment the [B]night wears off the [F#]bombsite r[E]eappears[B] [B]They're all asleep but the morning tastes like w[A]ine It tastes like wine in Tempe I f[D]eel so good I[E], just might, [F#]wake him up [Ebm]Pat him on t[B]he [Bb]bald head - tell me about a dream, Louis Something obscene, Louis Your life's an open magazine, Louis. Solo over same chords. [Ebm]I'm stoned i[B]n a[Bb] bookshop, sober in a nightclub Sex is everywhere but no-where around me By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating Never rains in Tempe but the planes remind me of family money And the lack down here Stop talking, frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis Burdett [F#]And we roll [Ab]on to my back [B]shed Play some [C#]poker, scratch my [F#]head [F#]Look at the [Ab]sky and spot the [B]planes Where would I[C#] go on holiday[F#]s? Roll with the [Ab]punches down the a[E]isles and down the str[B]eets the [Bb]weeks roll b[Ebm]y. [B] [Bb] [F#]All my friends are [Ab]fuckups but they're f[B]un to have [C#]around Banana c[F#]hairs out on the c[Ab]oncrete Telling s[B]tories to the [C#]stars How Gemin[F#]is love wooden dr[Ab]agons, yeah H[E]ow down the stree[B]t th[Bb]e weeks roll by[Ebm]. [B] [Bb] same chords as chorus): Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around Terror, like charity, begins at home Chris don't like madness, but madness likes him He's got a finger in his chest saying how it should have been ...and how down the street the [F#]week[Ab]s, [E]rol[B]l [Bb]by.[Ebm]