Kunci: D major
Verse 1
G
C
G
C
G
Oh,
Let it in now, if you please
G
Your promised land was settled by bastards,
Excuse me if it offends you,
Bm
F#m
D
but I'm the worst of all of these
G
I destroyed your family tree,
D
G
D
I am the outcast
G
D
I'm your inbred second cousin
I was kept inside a shed
G
I'm the cross -eyed little stutterer
I'm your queer Uncle Harry,
F#m
your retarded Uncle Fred
D
G
D
I'm the one they look for dead,
I am the outcast
G
D
G
I've embarrassed folks at weddings,
birthdays, and at wakes
D
G
I'm the cur who passed out face
down in your anniversary cake
D
G
D
I'm the black sheep, the philanderer,
F#m
the louse, the souse, the rake
D
G
Am
D
The remittance man, the snake,
G
D
the bloody outcast
G
D
Forbear with your pity,
my function's very plain
G
We've come here from the old world
D
and we've gone a touch insane
On your social scale,
Bm
D
F#m
you'd need a boy as a bear,
the family's stained
Em
D
I am the joker in your game,
G
Bm
D
G
I am the outcast
D
Em
D
Oh, the black man and the Indian,
the Chinaman and the Jew,
G
They built your friggin' railroad,
D
they picked your cotton, too.
They washed your dirty laundry
and they tied your chil
Em
They got a right to sing the blues
D
cause they were outcasts.
And we worship politicians,
as if they all were saints
G
Put their faces on our money,
We should love this land for what it is,
F#m
and not for what it ain't
G
D
All their game is fueled by hate,
the hate of outcasts
G
The Norwegians hate the Swedish,
D
and the Swedes they hate the Finns
G
The Finns they hate the Russians,
D
and the Russians hate the Yids
Bm
Spicks and whops and greases,
D
kites and spades and giddy -ants
Em
D
Hatred's blowing in the wind,
ten million outcasts
G
Oh, beautiful for spacious skies
G
D
Grain distilled to make the rye
that pickled old Tom Paine
Bm
Old Georgie built the White House
D
F#m
D
with slaves that died in pain
Em
But Georgie's quarries
A
made the gain from blood of
D
G
D
G
outcasts
D
F#m
G
D
This ain't a little closer now,
the sideshow must begin
G
History will repeat itself again,
again, again
D
On the immigration turnip,
F#m
oh, the low man never wins
Em
Competition ain't a sin,
A
D
God help the old man
G
Don't step right up you pilgrims,
D
the trains are leaving soon
D
an eye away from the likes of folks like you
A quarter section on a flood plain,
40 acres of a view
G
Em
Am
Sign right here you bloody fools
G
D
Welcome you outcasts!
You
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