• Violão
• Guitarra
• Teclado
• Cavaquinho
• Contra-baixo
• Bateria
• Gaita
• Guitar Pro

Tom: A

A                      D              A
Momma, someday you'll be so proud of me
                              D             A
You'll see me hanging in the New York gallery
                                 D                A 
Someday i'm gonna draw from the left side of my brain
                              D             A    
People are gonna ask, 'is it brilliant or plain?'

                  F#m
But as long as I don't know how to hang a Warhol
                  A
I keep sketching birds, that are all like herds
                 F#m
Very simple and true, like, you know, when we do to
                        D
And if you like them, yeah
                        E
But if you don't, its  ot bad
                        A
'Cause I really don't care

(repete os acordes do começo)

I said, Papa someday I'm gonna write a symphony
48-piece band all dressed up like me
I said, I'll write someday the saddest of old songs
i'm gonna chill the marrow in their bones

But as long as I can't get into Carnegie Hall
I keep writing songs that are all my own
Very simple and dumb, like I always have done
If you like them, yeah
But if you don't, too bad
                   F#m
'Cause it's all I have

 E        Bm  
Ever since I met her, I keep thinking
  F#m      E            Bm  
'God, how great it is to play a guitar'
             F#m   E              Bm           
This way I feel that she's always with me
                    D                    E
'Cause every other song's underneath this tongue
               A
Is about our love