Тональность: Bb minor
Intro 1
Am
Dm
Am
Em
Am
Dm
Am
Verse 1
Em
Am
I was a troll, Los Angeles
I make my home under palm trees
She was crazy, from up in the hills
She came to me when she
Em
Am
Dm
Am
Em
needed a thrill
Am
I like the beach when nobody's there
I like the surfers cause they don't care
Put on your face when
you're making a deal
Em
She throws me cash to spin
Am
Em
Am
her wheels
F
Em
Down at the Doom Room,
F
Em
nobody's got a face
F
Em
It's right up there by the Zuma Room
F
Em
We all got a dusty little hiding place,
Am
Dm
Am
Em
place
Dm
Am
I got a Winston call
Waiting for the pickup trucks
Em
Am
to haul us off
Digging ditches with paid Joey friend
Em
I guess we'd be friends if I knew
Am
Dm
Am
Em
what they said
Am
Dm
She picks me up at seven sharp
Am
As if I knew time wasn't
Em
Am
a liv ing lark
And all we have is a cunning tale
Of misery laced with her
Em
Am
Em
Am
perfumed wails
F
Em
Down at the doom room,
F
Em
nobody's got a face
F
Em
It's right up there by the Zuma Roo
F
Em
We all got a dusty little hiding place,
Am
Dm
Am
Em
Am
Dm
Am
Em
place
Am
Dm
Am
Em
Am
I guess we're all lucky
Dm
we don't blow away
Am
The Santa Annas have
Em
Am
hell to pay
Firestorms in our own backyard
make a rich man soft and a poor
Em
Am
F
man hard
Em
Down at the doom room,
F
Em
nobody's got a face
F
Em
It's right up there by the zoomaroo
F
Em
We all got a dusty little hiding place,
Am
Dm
Am
Dm
place
Am
Em
Am
Well, I was
a troll in Los Angeles,
and I make my home under palm trees.
Yes. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you, Sean.
Are you doing another one?
Perfect.
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