Stranded Trans-Atlantic Hotel Nearly Famous Blues chords and lyrics - DAVID J

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[Intro 1]
[G]

[Verse 1]
[G]Strangers
Outside
My
Door
Strangers outside my door
Strangers
I'm on the 14th floor
With these strangers outside my door
I'm the man in the phone
To my son, I'm the man in the phone
It's almost morning here
But it's still nighttime there
And the strangers won't leave me alone
I'm [C]not a silver screen
For your dumb projections
So [G]sweethearts, go away
I'm [C]not a silver screen, so [G]please go away,
come back another day.
Hold on to your hat, hold on to your head,
[D]hol[G]d on to your senses.
Or [D]when you [G]need them,
they may not be there.
When they roll the carpet your way,
your feet got nothing to do but to fall.
When the moon is calling you out to play,
you are helpless to refuse the call.
[C]They'll have you working the circuit,
40 cit[G]ies in 50 days.
And [C]it gets harder to shuck it,
when it's [G]dirty sitting really pays.
[C]I need some ice, I n[D]eed a drug,
I can't face [G]the crowd so I creep [C]on the rug.
Turn down the
TV, [D]say a little prayer
Phone down [G]the reception,
but there's [C]nobody there
So I try to call home,
but I can[D]'t even speak
Though it feels [G]like a year,
it's been [C]only one week
And another note from no one I know
[D]Slides under [G]the door
Now at the moment this fame thing is only small time,
but already little things happen
that get to me, that really get to me,
[C]and [G]I know where it's from, and I can see where
it's going, and the thing is,
I'm really not sure if it's where I want to go.
The price of fame is a broken case
With your private life spilling out
The price of fame is your veiled soul
Pulled up for sale by a ticket tower
The of fame, the price of fame
Anonymity as you stand
naked in a public place
A forfeit paid by the famous,
to the fans who made their face
And the fans come [Am]bearing gift[C]s,
stream[G]ing bouquets
On a bullet [C]fired from [G]a g[C]un,
and you're [G]blown away
Hold on to your hand,
cause we're almost there
Hold on to your everything,
we should be good folks, pull up a chair
You