Tabbed by: Eamon (eamonkeegan@hotmail.com)

	Album: History

	Loudon Wainwright III

        A father and a son.

        Capo 7th fret

	G                         D	    Em
        When I was your age I was just like you,
        	  C	    C/B*     G
        An' just look at me now Im sure you do,
        But your grandfather was just as bad,
	And you should have heard him trash his dad.
        Life's no picnic that's a given,
	My mom's mom died when my mom was seven,
        My moms father was a tragic guy,
        But he was so distant that nobody knows why.
	   Am		Bm
        Now your mothers family you know them,
	C	  C/B*   G	   C	    C/B*   G
        each and every one a gem, each and every one a gem.

	*quick pulloff here

	When I was your age I was a mess,
	On a bad day I still am I guess,
	I think I know What you're goin through,
	Everything changes but nothin is new.
	And I know that I'm miserable, can't you see,
	I just want you to be just like me,
	Boys grow up to be grown men and then
	Men change back into boys again.

	You're startin up and I'm windin down,
	Ain't it big enough for us both in this town,
	Say it's big enough for us both in this town.

        When I was your age I thought I hated my dad,
        and the feeling was a mutual one that we had,
        We fought each other day and night,
        I was always wrong and he was always right.
	But he had the power, he needed to win,
	His life half over mine about to begin,
        I'm not sure about that oedipal stuff,
        But when we were together it was always rough,

        Hate is a strong word I wanna back track,
        The bigger the front, the bigger the back,

        Now you and me are me and you,
        And its a different ball game altough not brand new,
        I dont know what all this fighting is for,
        we're having us a teenage middle age war.
	I don't wanna die, and you wanna live,
	It takes a little bit of take, a whole lotta give,
        It never really ends though each race is run,
        this thing between a father and a son,

        Maybe its power, push and shove,
        Maybe its hate, probably its love,
        Maybe its hate, probably its love.