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| Song Name: |
At Seventeen (chromatic) |
By: |
Janis Ian |
| Posted By: |
WaltP |
Difficulty: |
Beginner |
| Key: |
Any |
Genre: |
Pop |
| Harp Type: |
Chromatic |
Audio: |
|
| Created: |
2008-07-27 20:07:27 |
Modified: |
0000-00-00 00:00:00 |
| Rating: |
Login to Vote | Avg Rating: | More Votes Needed |
| | Fav Count: | 3 |
|
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| Song: |
AT SEVENTEEN
I learned the truth at sev-en-teen
3 -5 5 5 5 -4 4 4
That love was meant for beau-ty queens
3 6 -5 -5 -5 5* -5 -5
And high school girls
3 6 -5 -5
with clear skinned smiles
5 5 -4 -4
Who mar-ried young and then re-tired.
3 -5 5 5 -4 -4 -3 -3
The val-en-tines I nev-er knew
3 -5 5 5 5 -4 4 4
The Fri-day night cha-rades of youth
3 6 -5 -5 -5 5* -5 -5
Were spent on one more beau-ti-ful
3 6 -5 -5 5 5 -4 -4
At sev-en-teen I learned the truth.
3 -5 5 5 -4 -4 5 5
And those of us with rav-aged fa- ces
7 7 7 7 -5* 7* 7 7-6-5* -6
Lack-ing in the soc-ial gra-ces
-6 -6 -6 -5 7 -6 -5* -5
Des-prate-ly re-mained at home
-5 -5* -5* -5 -5 -5* -5*
In-vent-ing lov-ers on the phone
3 -5 -5* -5* -5* -5 -5* -5*
Who called to say come dance with me
7 7 7* -6 -5* -6 7 -5*
And mur-mured vague ob-scen-i-ties
3 -5 -5* -5* -5* 5 -5 -5*
It is n't all it seems
3 5 -5 -5 5 -5
At sev-en-teen.
3 5 -5 -5
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said, Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve.
The rich relationed hometown queen
Married into what she needs
A guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly.
Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
Indebentures of quality
And dubious integrity.
Their small town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen.
To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came,
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball.
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me.
We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen.
* means push the button
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