Nearest Thing To Hip

Intro G  C  D       G   C  D

G
There used to be a café a few blocks away,
C                  D                      G       C  D
Open seven days, called “The Brilliant Mistake”
G
Where a crow-haired girl with scarlet lips
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And slender hips served up coffee and cake
     Am
On a crackling stereo the ghosts of Sun Ra,
Em                                   D Dsus  D  Dsus
Charlie Parker, Miles and Coltrane blew
G                                                           C
I’d kick back in my chair, that sweet honey’d jazz in the air
D
The sun shining through

G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone
G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone

G  C  D       G   C  D

G
Everywhere that I go I see streets that are low
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On distinction and high on the banal and the bland
G
How did we get to this? We plumbed the abyss
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By the twisted grace of the law of supply and demand
              Am
Well, there’s no use crying and no use sighing over
Em                              D Dsus  D  Dsus
Stone, wood, wire, glass and cement
G
But there’s a little record store with a wooden floor
            C                    D
That ain’t there no more that I used to frequent

G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone
G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone

Em                D             C         G
Now I need to get out of this.. hullabaloo
Em                D                 C            G
And I remember an old-fashioned bar that I once knew
Bb                    Am     C                     G
With an old-fashioned barman wearing old-fashioned clothes
Am                      D
But when I get there.. it’s been bulldozed

G
So I follow my nose down Comatose Lane
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Through the stripped back, ripped up wastes of Woebegone Square
G
Till I find myself on Deadbeat Street,
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My feet beginning to ache, despair in the air
Am
The only thing bright in this blighted town
       Em                             D Dsus  D  Dsus
Are the billboard adverts everywhere displayed like mocking shades
G
And the musty, dusty second-hand bookstore
         C                 D
Is now a scum-encrusted amusement arcade

G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone
G
It was the nearest thing to hip
Am
It was the nearest thing to hip
         C        D         G
In this shithole… and it’s gone

G    C  D   G
         .. and it’s gone