Biography:
Bad Books, simply put, is Kevin Devine and Manchester Orchestra.
A true accident if there ever was one; Bad Books was never an intended nor calculated side project of Kevin Devine and Manchester Orchestra’s Andy Hull. Though the two musicians have collaborated and performed together on tour and within the Favorite Gentlemen community of artists for years now, the genesis of Bad Books came from a simple idea to fill space and time off the road by collaborating on a small batch of songs together at the top of the year.
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Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
A(not actually played) Bm
Some men collapse at the racetrack
D A
Their wrong and beat up, their eyes black
Bm
Others wilt in casinos
D A
Roll dice and piss away speedboats
Bm
Some dissolve into bar stools
D A
Scratched off in boxes and playoff pools
Bm
I spent myself on a psychic
D A
I lost my way and a friend said she would find it
D-F#m-Bm
Man, we were wrong.
F#m-E-A
Man, we were wrong.
D
I asked for the future,
E A
She only sang me a song.
Bm
Some men they go make their own luck
D A
Grow fat from feeding on lame ducks
Bm
The easy mark and the old maid
D A
The invalid and the ingrate
Bm
Others wait for that high sign
D A
Some holy hoax in the tree-line
Bm
Me, I'm counting my canned food
D A
Bunkered down waiting out our slingshot moods
D-F#m-Bm
But what if I'm wrong?
F#m-E-A
What if I'm wrong?
D
I'll open my doors up
E A
People, come sweep me along.
Interlude:
Bm, D, E, A x2
Bm, D, F#m, Bm, C#m
Bm
Eyes are fixed and my palms are spread
D A
Dissonance floats my shipwrecked head
Bm
God sleeps in the Gaza strip
D A
And man alone's left alone to live with it
Bm
The coin-flip faith of the optimist
D A
It's beginners luck in a sewing kit
Bm
What's to do when there is no fix
D A
On the unflinching ambivalence?
D-F#m-Bm
But you say that's wrong
F#m-E-A
Hopeless and wrong
D
We re-thread your needle,
E A
You say, "God, play along."
Some men collapse at the racetrack
D A
Their wrong and beat up, their eyes black
Bm
Others wilt in casinos
D A
Roll dice and piss away speedboats
Bm
Some dissolve into bar stools
D A
Scratched off in boxes and playoff pools
Bm
I spent myself on a psychic
D A
I lost my way and a friend said she would find it
D-F#m-Bm
Man, we were wrong.
F#m-E-A
Man, we were wrong.
D
I asked for the future,
E A
She only sang me a song.
Bm
Some men they go make their own luck
D A
Grow fat from feeding on lame ducks
Bm
The easy mark and the old maid
D A
The invalid and the ingrate
Bm
Others wait for that high sign
D A
Some holy hoax in the tree-line
Bm
Me, I'm counting my canned food
D A
Bunkered down waiting out our slingshot moods
D-F#m-Bm
But what if I'm wrong?
F#m-E-A
What if I'm wrong?
D
I'll open my doors up
E A
People, come sweep me along.
Interlude:
Bm, D, E, A x2
Bm, D, F#m, Bm, C#m
Bm
Eyes are fixed and my palms are spread
D A
Dissonance floats my shipwrecked head
Bm
God sleeps in the Gaza strip
D A
And man alone's left alone to live with it
Bm
The coin-flip faith of the optimist
D A
It's beginners luck in a sewing kit
Bm
What's to do when there is no fix
D A
On the unflinching ambivalence?
D-F#m-Bm
But you say that's wrong
F#m-E-A
Hopeless and wrong
D
We re-thread your needle,
E A
You say, "God, play along."
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