Cold Dead Hand keyboard

Cold Dead Hand

• A

## "COLD DEAD HAND" by Lonesome Early & the Clutterbusters (i.e., Jim Carrey, FunnyOrDie)
## transcribed by Jake K...........
## this is my first submission, thanks for checking it out!



Intro (?ahhh? ahhh? AHHH!!!?)? F#m

           A
Some folks ride like the wind,
         D                   A
With the whispering pines to guide them,
        D               A
And the burning light inside them
           E
Keeps them warm in the snow. 


       A
Others fear the sounds they hear,
     D               A
Make banditos out of molehills,
           A             D
Fill their hearts with porcupine quills,
                 E
They're dead and buried long before they go.


F#m                           A
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand,
    F#m                        A
And his immortal soul may lay forever in the sand,
    D                               A
The angels wouldn't take him up to heaven like he planned,
             E                            Bm        F#m
'Cuz they couldn't pry that gun from his Cold Dead Hand.


           E                  D                  A
It takes a cold, dead hand to decide to pull the trigger,
        E                         D             A
Takes a cold, dead heart, and as near as I can figure,
          C#m                              D                  A
With your cold, dead aim, you're trying to prove your dick is bigger
       E
But we know,
     D           Bm     A        F#m
Your chariot may not be swinging low.

           E
Cold, Dead Hand.
           A
Cold, Dead Hand.
           E
Cold, Dead Hand.
           A
Cold, Dead hand.
         F#m      E          F#m          E
You're a big, big man with a little bitty gland,
       F#m            E              F#m                   F#m
So you need something bigger just to fill your...Cold Dead Hand.


        A                             D                      A
Imagine if the Lord were here, and he knew what you've been thinkin',
          D                 A                E
Would his sacred heart be sinkin', into the canyon of dismay?
           A                                     D               A
And on the ones who sell the guns, he'd sick the vultures and coyotes,
         D            A
Only the devil's true devotees
            E
Could profiteer from pain and fear.


(Repeat verses 3-5)

         F#m      E          F#m          E
You're a big, big man with a little bitty gland,
       F#m            E             F#m     E
So you need something bigger with a hairpin trigger,
          F#m       E                F#m      E
You don't wanna get caught with your trousers down,
         F#m    E      F#m   E
When the psycho killer comes around.
       F#m       E           F#m     E
So you make your home like a Thunderdome,
           F#m    E            F#m       E
And you're always packin' everywhere you roam,
        F#m     E             F#m      E
And the psychos win no matter what you do,
             F#m       E        F#m       E
'Cuz they're gonna buy way more guns than you.


(double time)
    F#m          E         F#m    E
And while you're stumblin' out of bed,
     F#m      E             F#m          E
they put five rounds in the back of your head,
       F#m     E              F#m        E
Or you get depressed 'cuz the money went South,
        F#m          E       F#m     E
and you put your own shotgun in your mouth,
         F#m       E           F#m      E
and your kids walk in and they find you there,
       F#m      E            F#m    E
like a headless lump in your underwear,
         

         F#m      E          F#m        E
and they move the gun and it kills them too,
         F#m       E            F#m     E
and your wife just doesn't know what to do,
       F#m     E             F#m     E
so she takes a hand-grenade from her shoe,
        F#m
and she pulls the pin.

And it's all on you...
         Bm         F#m
And your Cold, Dead Hand.

(final notes? D-C#-B-A-G#-F#)

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