Chords for WHAT A FOWL DAY | Untitled Goose Game Song!
Tempo:
96.25 bpm
Chords used:
Cm
Ab
Fm
C
F
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
Here we see the common domestic goose, [Ab] Anser signoides domesticus.
Found across the British countryside, [Cm] it is known for its distinctive call, proud majestic [F] stature, and for being an all-round inconsiderate little gate.
[C] Who's this?
The true [Cm] prince of nuisance, cruising, which you can't need in nuisance,
[F] Abusing the humans are my amusements, [Ab] since I hatched, and every afternoon since.
[C] You can look [Cm] for clues, but you won't see any boot prints, doesn't take a sleuth to deduce the toothed fin.
[F] Brewing up a feud with a barrel full of rooge, [Ab] yes, I'm coming home to roost, and they're gonna need some tutoring.
[Cm] You can try to show me, [G] but I'm a tad imprudent, [C] it's community, a swoon disease, and no goosey improvements.
[F] All your property, here, they belong to [Ab] me.
Oh, I see you disagree.
[Bb] Oops, it's ruined.
[C] I waddle on to [G] the allotments, swatting the shallots, then make all but half the flop while you're not [F] watching.
Popped in for another gobble of your stocks, [Ab] then I'm off to see the shops, [D] and you wonder where your crocks [Cm] went.
Run up with your onions, pluck a couple pumpkins, I don't even eat them, I just steal them and I dump [F] them.
Nothing's more fun than befuddling a [Ab] pumpkin, huddled in the shrubbery while smuggling your [C] luncheon.
A [Cm] bit in luck, I just had to grab a quick fix, leave it unlocked, I'll be back for cabbage [F] picnic.
Picnic's picking on a scared kid, mixing [Ab] up his glasses on his ass [Bb] while a scarfer with his hair [Cm] picks.
What a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We've had [Fm] it up to here and we're all about to break.
Living [Ab] in fear of the terror from the lake, what [Cm] a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We'd stuff them full of steak in the oven [Fm] on a tray, but the RSVCA [Ab] say the bugger at this day, so we've got to do the pay.
Another [C] foul day, another [Fm] honkety honk, I was awful over [Db] buckets and they're dropping their bones from the noggins of flonkers who thought they could conquer me.
Once upon a jit I flunk, I'm up with your [C] crockery, I do beg your pardon, I think you're in my garden, [Cm] I've decided that it is, so please don't need to pardon.
[F] It's survival of the fittest and it harkens back to [Ab] Darwin, I thought that we were [C] British, did you have a lip to [C] harden?
He [G] stole the cheese to the gate, put me right in the lake, [G] made me crack my sperm and I had to [F] run away.
He ripped my roses, broke [Ab] my zits, locked me in [Bb] the garage, ravaged the [C] marketplace.
Banged from [A] the pub, I meant to whip the panchers, made out with me a [G] moniker and left me on me [F] bum.
Your big scary bird gave me off with a [Ab] quack, so I played, made me pay the shop lady for it [Cm] back.
I care not for fences, I'm on the offensive, the feathery devil who reveled in [Fm] senseless attempts at upending your endlessly [Ab] friendly pretenses.
Your temper's expended, oh, was [Cm] that expensive?
None of it's hateful, you ought to be grateful.
A face-off with nature is [Fm] basically staple of countryside [Ab] living, that's just what I'm bringing, occasional chaos but [Cm] awfully faithful.
What a foul day, waste dead again, chasing waterfowl away, we [Fm] padded up to Weir and we're all about the brain, [Ab] living in fear of the terror from the lake.
[Cm] What a foul day, waste dead [G] again, chasing waterfowl [Cm] away, we stuffed them full of sage in the [Fm] epinata tray.
Bit the R.S.E.C..A., say the [Ab] bugger at just days and we'd rather do the pain of [Cm] another real day. I'm sticking my neck out and setting the borders, a little respect for the new pecking [Fm] order. You call me a hoarder, a menace, a [Ab] thief, at the thought that I've almost give up. The [Cm] relief from the boredom ensured by a rural existence of thickets and crickets and picnic [Fm] subsistence to call me sadistic is far too fimpistic. I'm twisted but only to give you a [Cm] system, they've all got it in for me, living in infamy. Mischief's my gift at the cost of your [Fm] dignity, every day's a fight with the stick that I'm [Fm] given. I say it's only right that you give me that [Cm] rhythm. [C] [Ab]
[G] [Cm] Thank you for watching, and a huge thanks to my awesome patrons for making this video possible. If you enjoyed the [Fm] song, wing your way over to the playlist for further listening. [Cm] Be sure to like, comment, subscribe, steal the bell from your local model village, then ring it for notifications. And before you go swanning off, be [Fm] sure to have a gander at the Patreon too. Thanks for checking out the video,
Found across the British countryside, [Cm] it is known for its distinctive call, proud majestic [F] stature, and for being an all-round inconsiderate little gate.
[C] Who's this?
The true [Cm] prince of nuisance, cruising, which you can't need in nuisance,
[F] Abusing the humans are my amusements, [Ab] since I hatched, and every afternoon since.
[C] You can look [Cm] for clues, but you won't see any boot prints, doesn't take a sleuth to deduce the toothed fin.
[F] Brewing up a feud with a barrel full of rooge, [Ab] yes, I'm coming home to roost, and they're gonna need some tutoring.
[Cm] You can try to show me, [G] but I'm a tad imprudent, [C] it's community, a swoon disease, and no goosey improvements.
[F] All your property, here, they belong to [Ab] me.
Oh, I see you disagree.
[Bb] Oops, it's ruined.
[C] I waddle on to [G] the allotments, swatting the shallots, then make all but half the flop while you're not [F] watching.
Popped in for another gobble of your stocks, [Ab] then I'm off to see the shops, [D] and you wonder where your crocks [Cm] went.
Run up with your onions, pluck a couple pumpkins, I don't even eat them, I just steal them and I dump [F] them.
Nothing's more fun than befuddling a [Ab] pumpkin, huddled in the shrubbery while smuggling your [C] luncheon.
A [Cm] bit in luck, I just had to grab a quick fix, leave it unlocked, I'll be back for cabbage [F] picnic.
Picnic's picking on a scared kid, mixing [Ab] up his glasses on his ass [Bb] while a scarfer with his hair [Cm] picks.
What a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We've had [Fm] it up to here and we're all about to break.
Living [Ab] in fear of the terror from the lake, what [Cm] a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We'd stuff them full of steak in the oven [Fm] on a tray, but the RSVCA [Ab] say the bugger at this day, so we've got to do the pay.
Another [C] foul day, another [Fm] honkety honk, I was awful over [Db] buckets and they're dropping their bones from the noggins of flonkers who thought they could conquer me.
Once upon a jit I flunk, I'm up with your [C] crockery, I do beg your pardon, I think you're in my garden, [Cm] I've decided that it is, so please don't need to pardon.
[F] It's survival of the fittest and it harkens back to [Ab] Darwin, I thought that we were [C] British, did you have a lip to [C] harden?
He [G] stole the cheese to the gate, put me right in the lake, [G] made me crack my sperm and I had to [F] run away.
He ripped my roses, broke [Ab] my zits, locked me in [Bb] the garage, ravaged the [C] marketplace.
Banged from [A] the pub, I meant to whip the panchers, made out with me a [G] moniker and left me on me [F] bum.
Your big scary bird gave me off with a [Ab] quack, so I played, made me pay the shop lady for it [Cm] back.
I care not for fences, I'm on the offensive, the feathery devil who reveled in [Fm] senseless attempts at upending your endlessly [Ab] friendly pretenses.
Your temper's expended, oh, was [Cm] that expensive?
None of it's hateful, you ought to be grateful.
A face-off with nature is [Fm] basically staple of countryside [Ab] living, that's just what I'm bringing, occasional chaos but [Cm] awfully faithful.
What a foul day, waste dead again, chasing waterfowl away, we [Fm] padded up to Weir and we're all about the brain, [Ab] living in fear of the terror from the lake.
[Cm] What a foul day, waste dead [G] again, chasing waterfowl [Cm] away, we stuffed them full of sage in the [Fm] epinata tray.
Bit the R.S.E.C..A., say the [Ab] bugger at just days and we'd rather do the pain of [Cm] another real day. I'm sticking my neck out and setting the borders, a little respect for the new pecking [Fm] order. You call me a hoarder, a menace, a [Ab] thief, at the thought that I've almost give up. The [Cm] relief from the boredom ensured by a rural existence of thickets and crickets and picnic [Fm] subsistence to call me sadistic is far too fimpistic. I'm twisted but only to give you a [Cm] system, they've all got it in for me, living in infamy. Mischief's my gift at the cost of your [Fm] dignity, every day's a fight with the stick that I'm [Fm] given. I say it's only right that you give me that [Cm] rhythm. [C] [Ab]
[G] [Cm] Thank you for watching, and a huge thanks to my awesome patrons for making this video possible. If you enjoyed the [Fm] song, wing your way over to the playlist for further listening. [Cm] Be sure to like, comment, subscribe, steal the bell from your local model village, then ring it for notifications. And before you go swanning off, be [Fm] sure to have a gander at the Patreon too. Thanks for checking out the video,
Key:
Cm
Ab
Fm
C
F
Cm
Ab
Fm
_ _ Here we see the common domestic goose, [Ab] Anser signoides domesticus.
Found across the British countryside, [Cm] it is known for its distinctive call, proud majestic [F] stature, and for being an all-round inconsiderate little gate.
[C] Who's this?
The true [Cm] prince of nuisance, cruising, which you can't need in nuisance,
[F] Abusing the humans are my amusements, [Ab] since I hatched, and every afternoon since.
[C] You can look [Cm] for clues, but you won't see any boot prints, doesn't take a sleuth to deduce the toothed fin.
[F] Brewing up a feud with a barrel full of rooge, [Ab] yes, I'm coming home to roost, and they're gonna need some tutoring.
[Cm] You can try to show me, [G] but I'm a tad imprudent, [C] it's community, a swoon disease, and no goosey improvements.
[F] All your property, here, they belong to [Ab] me.
Oh, I see you disagree.
[Bb] Oops, it's ruined.
[C] I waddle on to [G] the allotments, swatting the shallots, then make all but half the flop while you're not [F] watching.
Popped in for another gobble of your stocks, [Ab] then I'm off to see the shops, [D] and you wonder where your crocks [Cm] went.
Run up with your onions, pluck a couple pumpkins, I don't even eat them, I just steal them and I dump [F] them.
Nothing's more fun than befuddling a [Ab] pumpkin, huddled in the shrubbery while smuggling your [C] luncheon.
A [Cm] bit in luck, I just had to grab a quick fix, leave it unlocked, I'll be back for cabbage [F] picnic.
Picnic's picking on a scared kid, mixing [Ab] up his glasses on his ass [Bb] while a scarfer with his hair [Cm] picks.
What a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We've had [Fm] it up to here and we're all about to break.
Living [Ab] in fear of the terror from the lake, what [Cm] a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We'd stuff them full of steak in the oven [Fm] on a tray, but the RSVCA [Ab] say the bugger at this day, so we've got to do the pay.
Another [C] foul day, another [Fm] honkety honk, I was awful over [Db] buckets and they're dropping their bones from the noggins of flonkers who thought they could conquer me.
Once upon a jit I flunk, I'm up with your [C] crockery, I do beg your pardon, I think you're in my garden, [Cm] I've decided that it is, so please don't need to pardon.
[F] It's survival of the fittest and it harkens back to [Ab] Darwin, I thought that we were [C] British, did you have a lip to [C] harden?
He [G] stole the cheese to the gate, put me right in the lake, [G] made me crack my sperm and I had to [F] run away.
He ripped my roses, broke [Ab] my zits, locked me in [Bb] the garage, ravaged the [C] marketplace.
Banged from [A] the pub, I meant to whip the panchers, made out with me a [G] moniker and left me on me [F] bum.
Your big scary bird gave me off with a [Ab] quack, so I played, made me pay the shop lady for it [Cm] back.
I care not for fences, I'm on the offensive, the feathery devil who reveled in [Fm] senseless attempts at upending your endlessly [Ab] friendly pretenses.
Your temper's expended, oh, was [Cm] that expensive?
None of it's hateful, you ought to be grateful.
A face-off with nature is [Fm] basically staple of countryside [Ab] living, that's just what I'm bringing, occasional chaos but [Cm] awfully faithful.
What a foul day, waste dead again, chasing waterfowl away, we [Fm] padded up to Weir and we're all about the brain, [Ab] living in fear of the terror from the lake.
[Cm] What a foul day, waste dead [G] again, chasing waterfowl [Cm] away, we stuffed them full of sage in the [Fm] epinata tray.
Bit the R.S.E.C..A., say the [Ab] bugger at just days and we'd rather do the pain of [Cm] another real day. I'm sticking my neck out and setting the borders, a little respect for the new pecking [Fm] order. You call me a hoarder, a menace, a [Ab] thief, at the thought that I've almost give up. The [Cm] relief from the boredom ensured by a rural existence of thickets and crickets and picnic [Fm] subsistence to call me sadistic is far too fimpistic. I'm twisted but only to give you a [Cm] system, they've all got it in for me, living in infamy. Mischief's my gift at the cost of your [Fm] dignity, every day's a fight with the stick that I'm [Fm] given. I say it's only right that you give me that [Cm] rhythm. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _ _
[G] _ [Cm] Thank you for watching, and a huge thanks to my awesome patrons for making this video possible. If you enjoyed the [Fm] song, wing your way over to the playlist for further listening. [Cm] Be sure to like, comment, subscribe, steal the bell from your local model village, then ring it for notifications. And before you go swanning off, be [Fm] sure to have a gander at the Patreon too. Thanks for checking out the video,
Found across the British countryside, [Cm] it is known for its distinctive call, proud majestic [F] stature, and for being an all-round inconsiderate little gate.
[C] Who's this?
The true [Cm] prince of nuisance, cruising, which you can't need in nuisance,
[F] Abusing the humans are my amusements, [Ab] since I hatched, and every afternoon since.
[C] You can look [Cm] for clues, but you won't see any boot prints, doesn't take a sleuth to deduce the toothed fin.
[F] Brewing up a feud with a barrel full of rooge, [Ab] yes, I'm coming home to roost, and they're gonna need some tutoring.
[Cm] You can try to show me, [G] but I'm a tad imprudent, [C] it's community, a swoon disease, and no goosey improvements.
[F] All your property, here, they belong to [Ab] me.
Oh, I see you disagree.
[Bb] Oops, it's ruined.
[C] I waddle on to [G] the allotments, swatting the shallots, then make all but half the flop while you're not [F] watching.
Popped in for another gobble of your stocks, [Ab] then I'm off to see the shops, [D] and you wonder where your crocks [Cm] went.
Run up with your onions, pluck a couple pumpkins, I don't even eat them, I just steal them and I dump [F] them.
Nothing's more fun than befuddling a [Ab] pumpkin, huddled in the shrubbery while smuggling your [C] luncheon.
A [Cm] bit in luck, I just had to grab a quick fix, leave it unlocked, I'll be back for cabbage [F] picnic.
Picnic's picking on a scared kid, mixing [Ab] up his glasses on his ass [Bb] while a scarfer with his hair [Cm] picks.
What a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We've had [Fm] it up to here and we're all about to break.
Living [Ab] in fear of the terror from the lake, what [Cm] a foul day, wasted again chasing what a foul away.
We'd stuff them full of steak in the oven [Fm] on a tray, but the RSVCA [Ab] say the bugger at this day, so we've got to do the pay.
Another [C] foul day, another [Fm] honkety honk, I was awful over [Db] buckets and they're dropping their bones from the noggins of flonkers who thought they could conquer me.
Once upon a jit I flunk, I'm up with your [C] crockery, I do beg your pardon, I think you're in my garden, [Cm] I've decided that it is, so please don't need to pardon.
[F] It's survival of the fittest and it harkens back to [Ab] Darwin, I thought that we were [C] British, did you have a lip to [C] harden?
He [G] stole the cheese to the gate, put me right in the lake, [G] made me crack my sperm and I had to [F] run away.
He ripped my roses, broke [Ab] my zits, locked me in [Bb] the garage, ravaged the [C] marketplace.
Banged from [A] the pub, I meant to whip the panchers, made out with me a [G] moniker and left me on me [F] bum.
Your big scary bird gave me off with a [Ab] quack, so I played, made me pay the shop lady for it [Cm] back.
I care not for fences, I'm on the offensive, the feathery devil who reveled in [Fm] senseless attempts at upending your endlessly [Ab] friendly pretenses.
Your temper's expended, oh, was [Cm] that expensive?
None of it's hateful, you ought to be grateful.
A face-off with nature is [Fm] basically staple of countryside [Ab] living, that's just what I'm bringing, occasional chaos but [Cm] awfully faithful.
What a foul day, waste dead again, chasing waterfowl away, we [Fm] padded up to Weir and we're all about the brain, [Ab] living in fear of the terror from the lake.
[Cm] What a foul day, waste dead [G] again, chasing waterfowl [Cm] away, we stuffed them full of sage in the [Fm] epinata tray.
Bit the R.S.E.C..A., say the [Ab] bugger at just days and we'd rather do the pain of [Cm] another real day. I'm sticking my neck out and setting the borders, a little respect for the new pecking [Fm] order. You call me a hoarder, a menace, a [Ab] thief, at the thought that I've almost give up. The [Cm] relief from the boredom ensured by a rural existence of thickets and crickets and picnic [Fm] subsistence to call me sadistic is far too fimpistic. I'm twisted but only to give you a [Cm] system, they've all got it in for me, living in infamy. Mischief's my gift at the cost of your [Fm] dignity, every day's a fight with the stick that I'm [Fm] given. I say it's only right that you give me that [Cm] rhythm. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _ _
[G] _ [Cm] Thank you for watching, and a huge thanks to my awesome patrons for making this video possible. If you enjoyed the [Fm] song, wing your way over to the playlist for further listening. [Cm] Be sure to like, comment, subscribe, steal the bell from your local model village, then ring it for notifications. And before you go swanning off, be [Fm] sure to have a gander at the Patreon too. Thanks for checking out the video,