John Prine (Maywood, Illinois, 10 de octubre de 1946) es un cantautor de country y folk estadounidense con un amplio éxito, tanto de crítica como de público, desde la década de 1970.
Sus padres fueron William Prine y Verna Hamm. Su abuelo había sido guitarrista de Merle Travis y Prine se inició como guitarrista a los catorce años. Durante cinco años trabajó como cartero, e hizo el servicio militar antes de comenzar su carrera musical en Chicago.
Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------## #
From: booker@elvice.ib.stortek.com (Sam Booker) Subject: PRO:leave_the_lights_on by john prine Date: Wed, 14 Feb 1996 14:36:01 -0700 (MST)
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE--------------------------------- #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #------------------------------------------------------------------------------ {no_grid:} # {t:Leave The Lights On} {st:(John Prine/Howie Epstein/Phil Parlapiano/Joe Romersa)} {st:From the John Prine album "Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings" ( Oh Boy Records, 1995)} # # Chords by Sam Booker (booker@elvice.stortek.com) # {ci:Intro:} [E] # [E]Feeling kind of boney On the telephoney Talking to Marconi Eating Rice-A-Roni [A]Nominated for Tony For acting like a phoney [E]Watching Twilight Zoney On my forty-two inch Sony Th[B7]is is just a long song It ain't no poem Le[E]ave the lights on till you baby gets home.
[E]It's like sitting in the kitchen When the music's really bitchin' Your nose it starts to itchin' As you count your old age pension D[A]id I forget to mention The ride that I was hitchin' To the al[E]uminum convention I had such good intentions Ke[B7]ep you cotton pickin' fingers off my song poem And le[E]ave the lights on till you baby gets home.
Le[E]ave the lights on till you baby gets home. Leave the lights on till you baby gets home. Do[A]n't forget your toothbrush Your hairbrush and your comb L[E]eave the lights on till you baby gets home. Got a b[B7]ig ol' dog A chrome crowbar I k[E]eep that mother humper in the back seat of my car [E] [A] [E] [B7] [A] [E]
[E]Me and Billy Shakespeare Stepped out to get a root beer We sat together so near People thought we were queer Pun[A]ctuated by the big scare We joined the Air Force right there To d[E]efend our country first class Who couldn't give a rat's ass Do[B7]n't you tell me that the White House is my home Le[E]ave the lights on till you baby gets home.
Le[E]ave the lights on till you baby gets home. Leave the lights on till you baby gets home. Do[A]n't forget your toothbrush Your hairbrush and your comb Leave the lights on till you baby gets home. Got a b[B7]ig ol' dog A big iron bar I k[E]eep that mother humper in the back seat of my car
[E]It's like kissing Greta Garbo With a mouth full of marbles [A] Like tr[E]ying to cash a paycheck In the middle of a train wreck [B7] Le[E]ave the lights on Leave the lights on
[E]Like trying to get aroundo In a car made of bondo [A] Like sp[E]eaking German lingo To a dog named Dingo[B7] - Plotz!! [E]Leave the lights on Leave the lights on
[E]Like a french-fried quesadilla In a franchised pizzeria [A] [E]Leave the lights on Leave the lights on [B7] A big iron bar I k[E]eep that mother humper in the back seat of my car