E E7 E7 Back porch preacher preaching at me E7 Acting like he wrote the golden rules A7 Shaking his fist and speeching at me E7 Shouting from his soap box like a fool B7 Come Sunday morning he's lying in bed A7 With his eye all red, with the wine in his head [ A7 ] Wishing he was dead E7 A7 E7 When he oughta be heading for Sunday school A7 Clean up your own backyard E7 Oh don't you hand me none of your lines B7 Clean up your own backyard A7 E7 A7 E B7 You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine E7 Drugstore cowboy criticizing E7 Acting like he's better than you and me A7 Standing on the sidewalk supervising E7 Telling everybody how they ought to be B7 Come closing time 'most every night A7 He locks up tight and out go the lights [ A7 ] And he ducks out of sight and he cheats on his wife E7 A7 E7 With his employee A7 Clean up your own backyard E7 Oh don't you hand me none of your lines B7 Clean up your own backyard A7 E7 A7 E B7 You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine E E7 Armchair quarterback's always moanin' E7 Second guessing people all day long A7 Pushing, fooling and hanging on in E7 Always messing where they don't belong B7 When you get right down to the nitty-gritty A7 Isn't it a pity that in this big city [ A7 ] Not a one a'little bitty man'll admit E A7 E7 He could have been a little bit wrong + coda A7 Clean up your own backyard E7 Oh don't you hand me, don't you hand me none of your lines B7 Clean up your own backyard A7 E7 A7 E B7 You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine B7 Clean up your own backyard A7 E7 You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine ... (slide lick)
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