A E D
When the evening sun is setting low
A E D
Blinding you on your drive home
A E D
And the lanes of traffic all converge
A E D
Causing you to curse every other word
C#m E A
For to wish it all away
(pause briefly, then slowly sweep downward with pick/one finger on C)
A E D
Daily grind's got your screw stripped
A E D C#m E
No can of double-ya-dee forty can fix your situation
A D
Seems to be losing steam
A E D E
Dream's been dropped on credit cards
F#m A C#m D
And false hope pumping out of your soul
D A E D
Like oil in the gulf it's a dead end
F#m A D
Drive it further deep into the ground
E D E
Till the point's dull as your skull
D C#m Bm
And the same sun that you curse
E A
Powers your hybrid heart home
(more lightly now):
A E
If only this car could move
D
Half a smidge