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Lather (Jefferson Airplane)

		Am  C  G
Lather was thirty years old today, 
Em  D  C
They took away all of his toys. 
Am  C  G
His mother sent newspaper clippings to him, 
Em  D  C
About his old friends who'd stopped being boys. 
 
Em  D  F  D
There was Harwitz Е. Green, just turned thirty-three, 
Am  Em  D
His leather chair waits at the bank. 
Em  D  F  D
And Seargent Dow Jones, twenty-seven years old, 
Am  Em  D
Commanding his very own tank. 
 
C  D  Em  
But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do, 
C  D  Em
To lie about nude in the sand, 
C  D  Em
Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps, 
D  Am  A
And thrashing the air with his hands. 
 
A  G
But wait, oh Lather's productive you know, 
A  G  A
He produces the finest of sound, 
G
Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose, 
A  G  A  Am  G  D
Snorting the best licks in town 
E
But that's all over... 
 
Am  C  G
Lather was thirty years old today, 
Em  D  C
And Lather came foam from his tongue. 
Am  C  G
He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said, 
Em  D  C
Is it true that I'm no longer young? 
 
Em  D  F  D
And the children call him famous, 
Am  Em  D
What the old men call insane, 
Em  D   F  D
And sometimes he's so nameless, 
Am  Em  D
That he hardly knows which game to play... 
C 
Which words to say... 
 
C  D  Em
And I should have told him, "No, you're not old." 
C  D  Em  D  Am
And I should have let him go on... smiling...baby wide.