Biografía:
William Alan Finn (b. February 28, 1952, Boston, Massachusetts) is an award-winning American composer and lyricist, especially of musicals.
William Finn grew up in Natick, Massachusetts with his parents and siblings, Michael and Nancy. He majored in music at Williams College in Williamstown, Massachusetts. He lives with his life partner in New York City and Pittsfield, MA, where he is an independent composer and writer. He is also "Adjunct Faculty Composer/Lyricist" at NYU.
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¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
[Intro]
Em Bm Em Bm
[Verse]
Em Bm
Okay—
F#m B7
When the doctor started using phrases like
Em Bm
"You'll pass away"
F#m B7
What could i say?
F
I said Doctor
F
In plain English
Em Bm
Tell me why was I chosen
B7
Why me of all men?
F
Doctor, here's the good part
Em
At least death means
Bm F#m B7
I'll never be scared about dying again
Em Bm
F#m B7
Let's get on with living while we can
Em Bm
And not play dumb
F#m B7
Death's gonna come
[Chorus]
Em C
When it does, screw the nerves
Am G
I'll be eating hors d'oeuvres
C G B
It's the roll of the dice and no crime
Em Bm
You gotta die sometime
Em Bm
[Bridge]
F F#m
Death is not a friend
Bm Em
But I hope in the end
D G
He takes me in his arms and lets me hold his face
D
He holds me in his arms and whispers something funny
Am C
He lifts me in his arms and tells me to embrace
B
His attack
Then the scene turns to black
[Verse]
Em Bm
Life sucks
F#m B7
People always hate a loser
Em Bm
And they hate lame ducks
F#m Bm
Screw me and shucks
F
That's it
That's the ball game
Em
I don't smoke, don't do drugs
Bm
And then comes the bad news
F
I quit
That's the ball game
F#m
It's the chink in the armor
B7
The shit in the karma
Em Bm
The blues
F#m B7
Can I keep my cool despite the urge
Em Bm
To fall apart?
F#m B7
How should I start?
[Chorus]
Em C
I would cry if I could
Am G
But it does no damn good
C G B
To explain I'm a man in my prime
Em Bm
You gotta die sometime
Em Bm
[Bridge]
F F#m
Death's a funny pal
Bm Em
With a weird sort of talent
D G
He puts his arms around my neck and walks me to the bed
D
He pins me up against the wall and kisses me like crazy
Am
The many stupid things I thought about with dread
B
Now delight
Then the scene turns to white
[Verse]
F#m B7 Em Bm
Give me the balls to orchestrate a graceful leave
F#m B7
That's my reprieve
[Chorus]
Em
To go out
C
Without care
Am G
My head high in the air
C G B
It's the last little mountain I'll climb
I'll climb
Em
You gotta die sometime
Em
You gotta die sometime
You gotta die sometime
Bm
You gotta die sometime, sometime
Sometime, sometime
Em
Sometime, sometime
Sometime, sometime
Em Bm Em Bm
[Verse]
Em Bm
Okay—
F#m B7
When the doctor started using phrases like
Em Bm
"You'll pass away"
F#m B7
What could i say?
F
I said Doctor
F
In plain English
Em Bm
Tell me why was I chosen
B7
Why me of all men?
F
Doctor, here's the good part
Em
At least death means
Bm F#m B7
I'll never be scared about dying again
Em Bm
F#m B7
Let's get on with living while we can
Em Bm
And not play dumb
F#m B7
Death's gonna come
[Chorus]
Em C
When it does, screw the nerves
Am G
I'll be eating hors d'oeuvres
C G B
It's the roll of the dice and no crime
Em Bm
You gotta die sometime
Em Bm
[Bridge]
F F#m
Death is not a friend
Bm Em
But I hope in the end
D G
He takes me in his arms and lets me hold his face
D
He holds me in his arms and whispers something funny
Am C
He lifts me in his arms and tells me to embrace
B
His attack
Then the scene turns to black
[Verse]
Em Bm
Life sucks
F#m B7
People always hate a loser
Em Bm
And they hate lame ducks
F#m Bm
Screw me and shucks
F
That's it
That's the ball game
Em
I don't smoke, don't do drugs
Bm
And then comes the bad news
F
I quit
That's the ball game
F#m
It's the chink in the armor
B7
The shit in the karma
Em Bm
The blues
F#m B7
Can I keep my cool despite the urge
Em Bm
To fall apart?
F#m B7
How should I start?
[Chorus]
Em C
I would cry if I could
Am G
But it does no damn good
C G B
To explain I'm a man in my prime
Em Bm
You gotta die sometime
Em Bm
[Bridge]
F F#m
Death's a funny pal
Bm Em
With a weird sort of talent
D G
He puts his arms around my neck and walks me to the bed
D
He pins me up against the wall and kisses me like crazy
Am
The many stupid things I thought about with dread
B
Now delight
Then the scene turns to white
[Verse]
F#m B7 Em Bm
Give me the balls to orchestrate a graceful leave
F#m B7
That's my reprieve
[Chorus]
Em
To go out
C
Without care
Am G
My head high in the air
C G B
It's the last little mountain I'll climb
I'll climb
Em
You gotta die sometime
Em
You gotta die sometime
You gotta die sometime
Bm
You gotta die sometime, sometime
Sometime, sometime
Em
Sometime, sometime
Sometime, sometime
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William Ross
William S. Pitts
William W Walfor (...)
William W. Walfo (...)
Wilson Simonal
Wimps
Winger
Wingnut Dishwash (...)
Wings