Taylor Steve - The Finish Line guitar chord
The Finish Line
By Steve Taylor.
                                                       Figured out by
Craig and Terry Barnes.
GÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                  A
Once upon an average morn, an average boy was born for the second time.
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                  G
Prone upon the alter there, he whispered up a prayer he'd kept hid inside.
                                                                         Â
                   A
The vision came, you saw the odds, a hundred little gods on a gilded wheel.
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                     G
These will vie to take your place, but father by your grace I will never
kneel
                                                              A
And I saw you upright and proud, and I saw you wave to the crowd,
         C                                                G            Â
Eb, F
and I saw you laughing out loud at the Philistines.
          G                                                 A
And I saw you, brush away rocks, and I saw you pull up you socks,
         C                                                 G           Â
   A
and I saw you out of the blocks for the finish line.
 D                                                                      Â
                     E
Darkness falls, the devil stirs and as your vision blurs you start
stumbling.
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â GÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                            D                       Bb, C
The heart is weak, the will is gone and every strong conviction comes
tumbling down.
DÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
               E
Malice reigns the acid guile sucking at your shoes while the mud is fresh.
   C                                                      G            Â
                  D                      Bb, C
It floods the trail, it bleeds you dry as every little god buys it's pound
of flesh.
          D                                                     E      Â
         Â
And I saw you, licking your wounds, and I saw you weave your cocoons,
         C            G                                     D         Â
        Bb, C
and I saw you changing your tunes for the party line.
          D                                                   E        Â
                    Â
And I saw you welch on old debts, I saw you and Your comrades Bum
Cigarettes,
               C                                                 G     Â
                             D                   Bb, C
and you hemmed, and you hawed and you hedged all your bets waiting for a
sign.
Eb                                       C                           EbÂ
                                F
Let's wash our hands as we throw little fits, lets all wash our hands as we
curse hypocrites,
          Ab                                Eb                      BbÂ
                                                G
we're locked in a wash room, turning old tricks, Deaf, and joyless, and
full of it, Oh!
GÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                 A
The vision came you saw the odds, a hundred little gods on a gilded wheel.
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
                          C                 B
These have tried to take your place, but father by your grace I will never
kneel.
          C                  B
I will never kneel.
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â D
          Â
Off in the distance, bloodied, but wise, as you squint with the light of
the truth in your eyes.
          C                                                          D
And I saw you, both hands were raised, and I saw your lips move in praise,
          Bb                        F                 C
and I saw you staring you gaze for the finish line.
                                                                         Â
    D
Every idol like dust, a word scattered them all, and I rose to my feet when
you scaled the last wall,
        Bb                                 F                           Â
CÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Eb, F
and I gasped when I saw you fall in his arms at the finish line.
          C              Eb, F  C       Eb, F        C
At the finish line,            Ohhhhhhhh at the finish line.
Steve Taylor is a dead set ledgend! I hope that he will write one more
album and tour Australia
before he dies for real or puts his back out completely.
