The Rolling Stones

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A E A D A D B7 A D B7 A D B7 A D A E A
 
D                   B7           A 
Wading through the waste stormy winter 
      D              B7                A 
And There's not a friend to help you through 
D                    B7                  A    D 
Trying to stop the waves behind your eyeballs 
A              E                     A 
Drop your reds drop your greens and blues 

 D                  B7         A 
Thank you for your wine, California 
 D                  B7                A 
Thank you for your sweet and bitter fruits 
 D                   B7             A  D 
Yes, i've got the desert in my toenail 
A             E                A 
And hid the speed inside my shoes 

            D             B7            A 
   But come on, come on down sweet Virginia 
  D                B7            A 
   Come on honey child i beg of you 
  D                  B7                A   D 
   Come on, come on down you got it in you 
  A                    E                    A   D A 
   Got to scrape that shit right off your shoes
 
D B7 A D B7 A D B7 A D A E A D A