Tired Old Suit

A There ain't much that's good left on D This tired old suit A And I've grown Accoustomed to D The holes in my shoes D And I remember how it felt when I, Bought it A Brand new E No there much that's good left on, D This Tired Old Suit A There's these holes in my pockets where my D Money falls through A And it's what I've been saving to D Give back to you D I could have sworn there was more well I, guess it A Fell through E All the holes in the pockets of D This tired old suit F#m The cuffs are both frayed from D Rollin' up sleeves F#m Fights in the alleys and D Work week after week Bm Worn in the knees from the D Prayers that I, A keep E Leaving unanswered before A I fall asleep A The elbows worn thin from D The bars where I'd lean A And there's a tear I repaired from D A fall in the street D And all the places and people that, I'd Run A Into E And the stitches I put in this D Tired old suit A Well there's lipstick on the collar, and D These little blood stains A A constant reminder of D Love and of pain D And I heard poets tell how they're, one in the A Same E When I look at this suit only D One still remains F#m Feet have grown used to D These Holes in my A Shoes F#m Walkin' round aimlessly D And From running From A Fools Bm Learned to jump puddles D And those, Rocks I A Removed E Well the distance I've traveled in the D Soles of these shoes A From birthdays to funerals, well I've D Worn this old suit A And I remember how it felt when I D Bought it brand new D They say the clothes make the man, I say, The man makes A The suit E Well the longer you wear it, D The more it Looks Like A You E From birthdays to funerals D And, This tired Old A Suit