The Bastard Son Of Dean Friedman Chords by Half Man Half Biscuit
Tempo:
69.75 bpm
Chords used:
D
A
F#
Bm
E
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
Well I heard a lovely [A] rumour that Beth Midler had a [D] tumour, so gleefully I went [A] to tell my friends.
[D] But they said it was a lie, [F#] cos she wasn't going to die.
[Bm] By the way, we [A] got news for you!
[D] And they told me that the man [A] I had always known as Dad [D] hadn't met my mum [A] when I was born.
[D] I'm regretting that I am, [F#] but I hope to God I'm [Bm] not, the bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
[A]
[E] [Em]
[D] And my school went for a [A] hide with his bombshell on my mind, [D] the art teacher said he [A] understood.
[D] But he could only [F#] sympathise with the sadness in my [Bm] eyes, even though he showed [A] me the great.
[D] And if for another [A] fear I would shed a lonely [D] tear, a pretty kill flew at [A] me from both sides.
[D] And they mocked me in my [F#] moths and embroidered in my [Bm] socks, the bastard [B] son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard [A] son of Dean Friedman.
[E]
[C]
And see the kind of fragile is he, for it's a munchy flat [D] back.
And you can thank [F#] your lucky stars that you're not the [B] bastard son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
[N]
[D] But they said it was a lie, [F#] cos she wasn't going to die.
[Bm] By the way, we [A] got news for you!
[D] And they told me that the man [A] I had always known as Dad [D] hadn't met my mum [A] when I was born.
[D] I'm regretting that I am, [F#] but I hope to God I'm [Bm] not, the bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
[A]
[E] [Em]
[D] And my school went for a [A] hide with his bombshell on my mind, [D] the art teacher said he [A] understood.
[D] But he could only [F#] sympathise with the sadness in my [Bm] eyes, even though he showed [A] me the great.
[D] And if for another [A] fear I would shed a lonely [D] tear, a pretty kill flew at [A] me from both sides.
[D] And they mocked me in my [F#] moths and embroidered in my [Bm] socks, the bastard [B] son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard [A] son of Dean Friedman.
[E]
[C]
And see the kind of fragile is he, for it's a munchy flat [D] back.
And you can thank [F#] your lucky stars that you're not the [B] bastard son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
[N]
Key:
D
A
F#
Bm
E
D
A
F#
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Well I heard a lovely [A] rumour that Beth Midler had a [D] tumour, so gleefully I went [A] to tell my friends.
[D] But they said it was a lie, [F#] cos she wasn't going to die.
[Bm] By the way, we [A] got news for you!
[D] And they told me that the man [A] I had always known as Dad [D] hadn't met my mum [A] when I was born.
[D] I'm regretting that I am, [F#] but I hope to God I'm [Bm] not, the bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
_ [A] _
_ [E] _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _ _
_ [D] And _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
my school went for a [A] hide with his bombshell on my mind, [D] the art teacher said he [A] understood.
[D] But he could only [F#] sympathise with the sadness in my [Bm] eyes, even though he showed [A] me the great.
[D] And if for another [A] fear I would shed a lonely [D] tear, a pretty kill flew at [A] me from both sides.
[D] And they mocked me in my [F#] moths and embroidered in my [Bm] socks, the bastard [B] son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard [A] son of Dean Friedman.
[E] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ And see the kind of fragile is he, for it's a munchy flat [D] back. _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
And you can thank [F#] your lucky stars that you're not the [B] bastard son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
_ _ [N] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Well I heard a lovely [A] rumour that Beth Midler had a [D] tumour, so gleefully I went [A] to tell my friends.
[D] But they said it was a lie, [F#] cos she wasn't going to die.
[Bm] By the way, we [A] got news for you!
[D] And they told me that the man [A] I had always known as Dad [D] hadn't met my mum [A] when I was born.
[D] I'm regretting that I am, [F#] but I hope to God I'm [Bm] not, the bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
_ [A] _
_ [E] _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _ _
_ [D] And _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
my school went for a [A] hide with his bombshell on my mind, [D] the art teacher said he [A] understood.
[D] But he could only [F#] sympathise with the sadness in my [Bm] eyes, even though he showed [A] me the great.
[D] And if for another [A] fear I would shed a lonely [D] tear, a pretty kill flew at [A] me from both sides.
[D] And they mocked me in my [F#] moths and embroidered in my [Bm] socks, the bastard [B] son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard [A] son of Dean Friedman.
[E] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ And see the kind of fragile is he, for it's a munchy flat [D] back. _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
And you can thank [F#] your lucky stars that you're not the [B] bastard son of Dean [D] Friedman.
The bastard son [A] of Dean [D] Friedman.
_ _ [N] _
Facts about this song