Jefferson Airplane

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