[Chord] The Bomf (Jl)

[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;
Si[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