One in Ten - Bob Kanefsky

(Bob: you may want to mention that a good way for people who want to play this, like most complex Fish, but can’t hack the guitar work is to just drop whichever chords can be dropped without making the song sound bad --- Fish chooses her chord sequence with the primary purpose of making it easier for her to play the melody simultaneously, and thus, many of her chords are fairly redundant Please look at the gramatical structure in I as a child... I killed the comma since it wouldn’t make it look how it should; could you please put it back and get it to work? I believe that it won’t let me put anything containing a comma into a macro/chord since the comma is used by the macro program. Like trying to input a comma into BASIC?)

[Dm]My mother [C]was a [F]home[C]ma[Dm]ker on the [F]edge of [C]Halli [Dm]Wood [A]Her [Dm]house was clean and her [C]cooking fine, but [Dm]this did little [A]good. For [Dm]few guests come now to [C]Halli Wood; it’s [F]too close to L.[C]A. And the [Dm]sick brown shroud of the [F]thick smog [C]cloud makes [Dm]few folk [A]care to [Dm]stay. [C]Alo[F]ne we were, and [C]self-contained, in our [Dm]small-town neighbor[A]hood, And [Dm]I as a [C]child, was [F]meek [C]and [A]mild, like all [Dm]children of [C]Halli [Dm]Wood. My granddam told me cradle tales of the sinful days gone by, When the perverts ruled, and the laws were lax, and the queers met on the sly. But they’ve been struck down by plague, she said, and won’t return again. So the queers appear no longer here, an insult to decent men. And neither do we find that trait in our children, one in ten. So just give thanks God destroyed their ranks, and you are not one of them. My mother had no girls at all, nor could she pay the fee, Of maids to straighten up the house, so she turned to Father and me. We helped her with the grocery bags, and cleaned the house all day. And we kept it neat, our lives complete, in the suburbs of L.A. So, clean we were, and well-behaved as the angels in the sky. But all this lent to my discontent, though I could not tell you why. As I walked through the downtown streets on summer market days, I marveled at humanity that filled my passing gaze. And when my folks weren’t with me, I’d stare at handsome men. And a few, I’d see, stared back at me about every one in ten. We never spoke or came too close, lest our souls might burn in Hell. But secretly they’d admire me, and I thought that that was swell. But [Dm]I’ll never wear [C]girls’ [F]clot[C]hing, [Dm]I’ll never [C]wear a rhine[Dm]stone. I’ll keep it to [C]mys[F]elf [C]and [Dm]live and [C]die a[Dm]lone. But when they’re drunk or [A]high, and I [F]don’t try [C]not to [A]see, When I [Dm]walk the [C]streets a[F]lone, [C]handsome [F]men stare [C]back at [Dm]me.