Tom: Am
Am E F
Am G F
Am
Here's to the knives in your pockets,
E F
the gun in your trunk, the years it's been since we weren't drunk.
Am G F
The neighbor shirtless, face-down on the lawn.
Am E F
Here's to the BB gun holes in the wall, the burnt tin foil in the hall.
Am G F
The weeks I've spent in bed since you were gone.
Am C Am C
Here's to shitting my pants downtown when the dealer's late, stumbling home to the feds at the front gate,
Am C G F
sleeping behind the school when the landlord comes. Here's to being young.
C G F C G
I hope I die before I get old. Hell, I just hope I die before the spoon gets cold.
Dm G
Sing it with me now, while we've still got our lungs: Here's to being young.
Am G F
Em F x2
Am E F Am
Buy whipped cream on EBT and huff it in the dark with me. There's a bill on the table,
G F
but I don't recognize the name.
Am E F Am G
We just came for a good time. It's listerine, but it tastes fine, or at least it did last time you got
F
the shakes.
Am C Am C
Here's to running out the grocery store with a thirty pack, punching the cashier that wants it
Am C G
back, booking it out of there before the police come.
F C G
Here's to being young. I hope I die before I get old.
F
Hell, I just hope I die.
C G Dm
Blah, blah, blah. Sing it with me now,
G
convince me this is fun: Here's to being young.
Am E F
Am G F x2
