I Aint Around Much

D A G Em Well, I ain't around much, I program my name into the air, D A I assure the crow in the morning, You are my favorite son, G Em I'm not your favorite son, The sacred question shall burn into your brain, D A But when the wind blows black, grief upon thy face, G You shall mutter my, my name, and then regain, Em The composure, D A Of the man that I love, And you'll climb with your son, G Em Up on the ragged mountain's path, Oh it's a beggars dusty train, D A And sleep on boulder beds, Quell your own damned wrath, G And think of ways to trade your name, You light a fire for the girls, light a fire for the girls Em Singing "Sharpen your knife" D A And tell 'em tales from your wicked life, Tell 'em that the march of that face, G Em Searching to the greater m-man, And the only way to love, D A Is to take me in, My voice is everywhere, G Em My voice is no, no where, My voice is in the air, D A That's what I wanted to hear, That's why I now stay your hand, G You may return to your families, You may never understand, you may never understand, Em That I just wanted to hear, oh-oh-oh, D A The sound, oh the sound, Of their father, G Em Saying goodbye, Whoa-oh-oh