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The Bomf

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[Am]I am an arms dealer, Fitting you with [E]weapons in the form of [E]words. [Am]And don't really care which side wins, As [E]long as the room keeps singing. That's just the [E]business I'm in. [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. [E]This ain't a scene, it’s a [E]god damn arms race. [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. [E]I'm not a shoulder to cry on, [E] But, I digress. And the [F]lies I weave are oh-so [C]intricate. Oh-so [E]intricate, yeah. Am [Am]I wrote the gospel on giving [Am]up. (You look pretty sinking,) But the [E]real bombshells have already [E]sunk. (Prima-donnas of the gutter.) At [Am]night we're painting your trash [Am]gold while you sleep. Crashing [E]not like hips or cars, No, more [E]like p-p-p-parties. [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. [E]This ain't a scene, it’s a [E]god damn arms race. [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. E Bandwagon's full, Please, [E]catch another. Am I'm a leading man, And the [F]lies I weave are oh-so [C]intricate. Oh-so [E]intricate. Am I'm a leading man, And the [F]lies I weave are oh-so [C]intricate. Oh-so [E]intricate. F Am E Am F C E E Am All the boys who the dance floor [Am]didn't love, And the girls who's [E]lips couldn't move fast enough; E Sing, until your lungs give out. [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. [E]This ain't a scene, it’s a [E]god damn arms race. (Now you.) [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. (Wear out the groove.) [E]This ain't a scene, it’s a [E]god damn arms race. (Sing out loud.) [Am]This ain't a scene, it’s a [Am]god damn arms race. (Oh, oh.) [E]This ain't a scene, it’s a [E]god damn arms race. Am I'm a leading man, And the [F]lies I weave are oh-so [C]intricate. Oh-so [E]intricate. [Am]I'm a leading man, And the [F]lies I weave are oh-so [C]intricate. Oh-so [E]l

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