Tom: G
G
Every mornin at line you'd see him arrive
C
He stood five-foot-six about one-eighty-five
D
About as broad at the shoulder as he was at the hip
G
Everybody knew he didn't give a sh*t, Sky King
[Verse 2]
G
Now some say Sky was born in New Orleans
C
Where he built hisself a rotor on a sewing machine
D
Cut his teeth on a collective pitch
G
Old Sky was a low flyin son of a b**ch, Sky King
[Chorus]
C
Sky King
D
Sky King
G
Short fat sky
[Verse 3]
G
And then came a day at Stage Field Nine
C
When his engine failed and men started cryin
D
And sirens screamed and hearts beat fast
G
And everybody thought he'd breathed his last, 'cept Sky
[Verse 4]
G
Well he pushed that collective on down through the floor
C
But the damn rotorblade wouldn't turn anymore
D
So his butt puckered up and with a frightening sound
G
He just sucked that old chopper up off of the ground, Sky King
[Verse 5]
G
The ship wasn't hurt but it took half the class
C G
To get the seat cover out of Sky King's ass, Sky King
[Chorus]
C
Sky King
D
Sky King
G
Short fat sky
[Verse 6]
G
Well they never reopened that landing strip
C
They just put a marble stand on top of it
D D*
And these few words are written on that thing
G*
Ain't a butt that can pucker like old Sky King's
