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| Em | C | | It starts with a haircut that | you don’t understand |
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| Em | C | B | | all dressed looking so sharp just | knowing that you’re the | man |
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| Em | C | | with a | walk to the beat and you’re | move’s on repeat |
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| Am | B | | the | game is on to | night |
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| Em | | With a | smile on your face |
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| C | | but | along with the taste |
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| Am | B | | a | lonliness to re | place |
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| | | C | G | | | | Oh man you look so good to | night |
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| | | Am | F | | | every woman you | need for your exper | tise |
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| | | C | G | | | to hear the cheers for | you where you sit a | lone |
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| | | Am | F | | | but with your | dignity on the | phone |
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| | | Em | C | Em | C | | | begging you to come | home | | | |
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| Em | C | | Your mind slips away with every | minute that you stay |
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| Em | C | B | | Messed up your haircut but | still you feel the | same |
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| Em | C | | ’Coz your | god’s gift to women but they | don’t have opinion |
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| Am | B | | at | least not the pretty | ones |
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| Em | | As long as | they keep on coming |
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| C | | this | place she belong in |
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| Am | B | | a | game you’ll never | win |
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| | | C | G | | | | So sad this seems to be a | fate |
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| | | Am | F | | | all alone a | gain and a fat off | day |
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| | | C | G | | | you should be let to come | in and you’ll never | win |
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| | | Am | F | | | unless the | golden rule becomes your | friend |
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| | | Em | | | and you should never re | turn |
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| Em | C | G | B | | La la la | la la | la la | |
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