Apocalypse No

Am Bm Em C Am Bm Em C Bm G A D C G D Bm Em A D Am Bm We dined in the breezeway Em C And met later in the carport for drinks Am Bm We rationed out the pills Em C Splitting evenly the blues and the pinks Bm G We didn't really split the blues A D I only mean that's what he thinks C G He's got the mother lode this time D Bm Em Why, o why are best friends such finks ? A D Am Bm We met on the causeway Em C Unloading all our grievances there Am Bm He pat me on the shoulder Em C And I playfully ruffled his hair Bm G Then brought him to the waterline A D And constrained him while he struggled for air C G Then I pulled him back and kissed D Bm Em And we both went arm in arm to the fair A D