4+20 (Crosby Stills Nash & Young)

D Four and twenty years ago, I come into this life, the son of a woman and a man who lived in strife. F G D He was tired of bein' poor, F G D and he wasn't into sellin' door to door, F G D and he worked like the devil to be more. A different kind of poverty now upsets me so; night after sleepless night, I walk the floor and I want to know, why am I so alone? Where is my woman, can I bring her home? Have I driven her away? Is she gone? Morning comes the sunrise and I'm driven to my bed. I see it is empty and there's devils in my head. I embrace the many-colored beast. I grow weary of the torment can there be no peace? And I find myself just wishing that my life would simply cease.