It Must Be Hell tab - rolling stones

e: Wed, 08 Apr 1998 09:27:30 PDT
From: DON CZAR 
Subject: r/rolling_stones/it_must_be_hell.crd

SONG: IT MUST BE HELL
ARTIST: ROLLING STONES
ALBUM: UNDERCOVER
TAB BY: DON CZARSKI
E-MAIL: guitarzan7@hotmail.com


                       IT MUST BE HELL
                       ROLLING  STONES



        
INTRO RIFF:    C C C C C  G  C C C  G   G* G G -- 4x's

          NOTE: PLAY AS BARRE CHORDS - 3rd FRET -  G* lift up
                                                  index finger


VERSE:
       G         C                 G
       We got trouble, that's for sure
               C           G
       We got millions unemployed
                         C               *NOTE: ENTIRE SONG IS
       Some kids can't write                       ONLY THE  
                        G                     C & G BARRE CHORDS
       Some kids can't read 
                      C
       Some kids are hungry
 
                 G    INTRO RIFF - 2x's
       Some overeat


VERSE: 
       Our TV leader boldly speaks
       The words of Christ he tries to preach
       We need more power to hold the line
       The strength of darkness still abides


CHORUS:
                C   C C C C C  G
       Must be hell
        C        
       Living in the world
                                 G    INTRO RIFF
       Living in the world like you

                C   C C C C C  G
       Must be hell
        C
       Living in the world
                                    G   INTRO RIFF --2x's
       Suffering in the world like you



VERSE:
       Keep in a straight line, stay in tune
       No need to worry, only fools
       End up in prison of conscience cells
       Or in asylums they help to build


CHORUS:
       Must be hell living in the world
       Suffering in the world like you -- OPENING RIFF

       Must be hell living in the world
       Suffering in the world like you --OPENING RIFF

       Must be hell
       Suffering in the world like you -- OPENING RIFF -- 3x's


INSTRUMENTAL: SOLO OVER OPENING RIFF -- 5x's


VERSE:
       We're free to worship, we're free to speak
       We're free to kill, that's guaranteed
       We've got our problems, that's for sure
       Clean up the backyard, don't lock the door


CHORUS:
       Must be hell living in the world
       Suffering in the world like you
       Must be hell living in the world
       Suffering in the world like you


OUTRO:        OPENING RIFF OVER AND OVER UTIL END
                 ( LISTEN TO CD FOR TIMING )

       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound 
       I say we are heaven bound
       I say we are heaven bound


      any questions, comments or corrections e-mail me at: 
                   guitarzan7@hotmail.com

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It Must Be Hell pdf

Video It Must Be Hell

Must Be Hell
I tell you what, this video is a tribute to the Stones endurance. Weve got trouble, thats for sure We got millions unemployed Some kids cant write Some kids cant read Some kids are hungry Some overeat Our tv leader boldy speaks The words of christ he tries to preach We need more power to hold the line The strength of darkness still abides Must be hell living in the world Living in the world like you Must be hell living in the world Suffering in the world like you Keep in a straight line, stay in tune No need to worry, only fools End up in prison of conscience cells Or in asylums they help to build Must be hell living in the world Suffering in the world like you you you you Must be hell living in the world Suffering in the world like you Must be hell Suffering in the world like you Were free to worship, were free to speak Were free to kill, thats guaranteed We got our problems, thats for sure Clean up the backyard, dont lock the door Must be hell living in the world Suffering in the world like you Must be hell living in the world Suffering in the world like you I say we we are heaven bound I say we we are heaven bound I say we we are heaven bound I say we we are heaven bound I say we we are heaven bound.........

Mandy Lion's WWIII "Love You To Death" (Great Quality)
This is a much better quality version of Love You To Death by Mandy Lion's WWIII. This version of "LYTD" is finally uploaded thanks to my great friend Phil Raza who after many years of searching finally hooked me up with this video for you... This is the video for the first single on the legendary debut CD of Mandy Lion's WWIII. This band influenced most of todays popular metal bands such as Rob Zombie, Disturbed, Korn, Panthera and many others. The band members are Mandy Lion on vocals, Black Sabbath's drummer Vinnie Appice and Rainbow and Dio's Bass player Jimmy Bain. The Rolling Stone says: If you want to know where bands such as Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Static X, Rammstein, Korn and Type O Negative got their ideas from you must experience the man that started it all. Often copied, his vocal style and stage presence remain unmatched. J.B. Rolling Stone To find out more about Mandy Lion go to one of these three sites: myspace.com/wwiiimandylion mandyliononline.com myspace.com/mandylionwwiii

Eagles - Dreamed There Was No War_Your World Now (Cvs SLD)
I make this video is for my Yahoo! 360 Blog, My favourite music, My music world ... A tribute to Eagles ... This music video will be posted on 15/03/2008 in my blog ... Eagles Official Website http://www.eaglesband.com Artist: The Eagles Album: Long Road Out Of Eden 2007 Song: I Dreamed There Was No War_It's Your World Now A perfect day, the sun is sinkin' low As evening falls, the gentle breezes blow The time we shared went by so fast Just like a dream, we knew it couldn't last But I'd do it all again If I could, somehow But I must be leavin' soon It's your world now It's your world now My race is run I'm moving on Like the setting sun No sad goodbyes No tears allowed You'll be alright It's your world now Even when we are apart You'll always be in my heart When dark clouds appear in the sky Remember true love never dies But first a kiss, one glass of wine Just one more dance while there's still time My one last wish: someday, you'll see How hard I tried and how much you meant to me It's your world now Use well the time Be part of something good Leave something good behind The curtain falls I take my bow That's how it's meant to be It's your world now It's your world now It's your world now * The Eagles are an American rock band that was formed in Los Angeles, California in the early 1970s. With five Number 1 singles and six Number 1 albums, the Eagles were among the most successful recording artists of the 1970s. At the end of the 20th century, two of their albums, Eagles: Their Greatest Hits 1971--1975 and Hotel California, ranked among the ten best-selling albums according to the Recording Industry Association of America. The best-selling studio album Hotel California is rated as the 37th album in the Rolling Stone list "The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time", and the band was ranked number 75 on Rolling Stone's 2004 list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time.[1] They are also the best-selling American group ever, with Eagles: Their Greatest Hits 1971--1975 being the best-selling album in the U.S. to date.[2][3] The Eagles broke up in 1980, but reunited in 1994 for Hell Freezes Over, a mix of live and new studio tracks. They have toured intermittently since then, and were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1998. In 2007, the Eagles released Long Road Out of Eden -- their first full studio album in 28 years. *

Jethro Tull- Baker St. Muse part 1
Baker Street Muse Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel. Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands. With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time. You can call me on another line. Indian restaurants that curry my brain. Newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. With cold print hands. Symphony word-player, I'll be your headline. If you catch me another time. Didn't make her --- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her --- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her --- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse. Ale-spew, puddle-brew --- boys, throw it up clean. Coke and Bacardi colours them green. From the typing pool goes the mini-skirted princess with great finesse. Fertile earth-mother, your burial mound is fifty feet down in the Baker Street underground. (What the hell!) Walking down the gutter thinking, ``How the hell am I today?'' Well, I didn't really ask you but thanks all the same. Pig-Me And The Whore ``Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me,'' said the pig-me to the whore, desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain. Little man, his youth a fountain. Overdrafted and still counting. Vernacular, verbose; an attempt at getting close to where he came from. In the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars; Proposition, deal. Flying button feel. Testicle testing. Wallet ever-bulging. Dressed to the left, divulging the wrinkles of his years. Wedding-bell induced fears. Shedding bell-end tears in the pocket of her resistance. International assistance flowing generous and full to his never-ready tool. Pulls his eyes over her wool. And he shudders as he comes. And my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road. Crash-Barrier Waltzer And here slip I --- dragging one foot in the gutter --- in the midnight echo of the shop that sells cheap radios. And there sits she --- no bed, no bread, no butter --- on a double yellow line --- where she can park anytime. Old Lady Grey; crash-barrier waltzer --- some only son's mother. Baker Street casualty. Oh, Mr. Policeman --- blue shirt ballet master. Feet in sticking plaster --- move the old lady on. Strange pas-de-deux --- his Romeo to her Juliet. Her sleeping draught, his poisoned regret. No drunken bums allowed to sleep here in the crowded emptiness. Oh officer, let me send her to a cheap hotel --- I'll pay the bill and make her well - like hell you bloody will! No do-good over kill. We must teach them to be still more independent. Mother England Reverie I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone. I have no wish for wishing wells or wishing bones. I have no house in the country I have no motor car. And if you think I'm joking, then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar. And it seems there's no-body left for tennis; and I'm a one-band-man. And I want no Top Twenty funeral or a hundred grand. There was a little boy stood on a burning log, rubbing his hands with glee. He said, ``Oh Mother England, did you light my smile; or did you light this fire under me? One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery. And paint you a picture of the queen. And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree --- it's just the nonsense that it seems.'' So I drift down through the Baker Street valley, in my steep-sided un-reality. And when all is said and all is done --- I couldn't wish for a better one. It's a real-life ripe dead certainty --- that I'm just a Baker Street Muse. Talking to the gutter-stinking, winking in the same old way. I tried to catch my eye but I looked the other way. Indian restaurants that curry my brain --- newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. Circumcised with cold print hands. Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel. Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands. With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time --- you can call me on another line. Didn't make her --- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her --- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her --- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse. (I can't get out!) Jethro Tull- Baker St. Muse part 1, from the album Minstrel in the Gallery. Uploaded by request of Judashall

Jethro Tull- Baker St. Muse part 2
Baker Street Muse Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel. Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands. With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time. You can call me on another line. Indian restaurants that curry my brain. Newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. With cold print hands. Symphony word-player, I'll be your headline. If you catch me another time. Didn't make her --- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her --- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her --- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse. Ale-spew, puddle-brew --- boys, throw it up clean. Coke and Bacardi colours them green. From the typing pool goes the mini-skirted princess with great finesse. Fertile earth-mother, your burial mound is fifty feet down in the Baker Street underground. (What the hell!) Walking down the gutter thinking, ``How the hell am I today?'' Well, I didn't really ask you but thanks all the same. Pig-Me And The Whore ``Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me,'' said the pig-me to the whore, desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain. Little man, his youth a fountain. Overdrafted and still counting. Vernacular, verbose; an attempt at getting close to where he came from. In the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars; Proposition, deal. Flying button feel. Testicle testing. Wallet ever-bulging. Dressed to the left, divulging the wrinkles of his years. Wedding-bell induced fears. Shedding bell-end tears in the pocket of her resistance. International assistance flowing generous and full to his never-ready tool. Pulls his eyes over her wool. And he shudders as he comes. And my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road. Crash-Barrier Waltzer And here slip I --- dragging one foot in the gutter --- in the midnight echo of the shop that sells cheap radios. And there sits she --- no bed, no bread, no butter --- on a double yellow line --- where she can park anytime. Old Lady Grey; crash-barrier waltzer --- some only son's mother. Baker Street casualty. Oh, Mr. Policeman --- blue shirt ballet master. Feet in sticking plaster --- move the old lady on. Strange pas-de-deux --- his Romeo to her Juliet. Her sleeping draught, his poisoned regret. No drunken bums allowed to sleep here in the crowded emptiness. Oh officer, let me send her to a cheap hotel --- I'll pay the bill and make her well - like hell you bloody will! No do-good over kill. We must teach them to be still more independent. Mother England Reverie I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone. I have no wish for wishing wells or wishing bones. I have no house in the country I have no motor car. And if you think I'm joking, then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar. And it seems there's no-body left for tennis; and I'm a one-band-man. And I want no Top Twenty funeral or a hundred grand. There was a little boy stood on a burning log, rubbing his hands with glee. He said, ``Oh Mother England, did you light my smile; or did you light this fire under me? One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery. And paint you a picture of the queen. And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree --- it's just the nonsense that it seems.'' So I drift down through the Baker Street valley, in my steep-sided un-reality. And when all is said and all is done --- I couldn't wish for a better one. It's a real-life ripe dead certainty --- that I'm just a Baker Street Muse. Talking to the gutter-stinking, winking in the same old way. I tried to catch my eye but I looked the other way. Indian restaurants that curry my brain --- newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. Circumcised with cold print hands. Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel. Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands. With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time --- you can call me on another line. Didn't make her --- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her --- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her --- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse. (I can't get out!) Jethro Tull- Baker St. Muse part 2, from the album Minstrel in the Gallery. Uploaded by request of Judashall

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