[A] The flies have quit their buzzing.
Even [D] Bear has stopped his barking.
They [E] all sense something brewing
up the [D-E] James and headed this [A] way. [Asus] (see below)
[A] Bobby sips his morning coffee.
Says, have you [D] finished with the funnies.
Looks [E] like a storm is coming honey
guess [D-E] we’ll have to stay in bed [A] today. [Asus]
[D] I’ve heard that into every life [A] a little of it must [D] fall.
If there’s [A] any truth to the [E] saying,
Lord let it be a [D] southern [A] rain. [Asus]
[A] Marie was born in Macon, Georgia.
She [D] met a west coast lawyer.
He [E] plucked that sweet magnolia
and [D-E] carried her to the hills of [A] West L.A. [Asus]
[A] She says, I never thought I’d tire of a dollar.
But [D] this life has grown so hollow.
Every [E] night there’s lipstick on his collar and
every [D-E] morning I wash it [A] away. [Asus]
She [D] heard that into every life [A] a little of it must [D] fall.
So she [A] spends her evening [E] praying
for a little of the [D] southern [A] rain. [Asus]
[Gm] Cars alive [F#m] on city streets of [E] sparkling black [A] water
Like [F#m] waves beneath my window–never [Bm] break just roll [E] away.
[D] Tonight, this rain will [E] be my [F#m] lullabye: [Bm]
[D] these cars, my dreams to [E] carry me home to [A] stay. [Asus]
The [A] wipers beat a rhythm. Truck [D] spray obscures my vision.
But I’m [E] closing in on my destination.
Two more [D] hours and I’ll [E] be at your [A] door. [Asus]
But it will [A] never cease to amaze me
how a little [D] rain can drive folks crazy.
When I’d trade [E] all my clear skies gladly
for your [D] blue eyes, your [E] crooked smile
and a steady [A] downpour.
I’ve [D] heard that into every life [A] a little of it must [D] fall,
but you’ll [E] never catch me [A] complaining
about [D] too much of that [E] southern [A] rain.
Tabbed by firstname.lastname@example.org
Asus lick: B ——-0-h-2–0—
bbkim’s note: or, on the [Asus] lick thing, you can just decorate the [A] with an [A7] and it sounds pretty good.