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Crime In The City ukulele

version 1
version 1

Whole song


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There is no strumming pattern for this song yet. and get +5 IQ
Firstly this song is played down a step ie tuned down.
With standard tuning = EADGBE,

Then CITC tuning = DGCFAD (to be in tune with the CD)
So the chords played are Bm & G, not Am & F but tuned down, if you get my drift..

Play Bm with the index finger over the E & B strings, 2nd fret and the thumb over the 
E string, 2nd fret.

This is played, picking the notes while playing the chords.
If you play this in standard tuning it will be a step too high. But tuned down, it will 
in tune with the Freedom version.

E ---2--2--0--2--2--0--3----2-----------------------3---|
B ---3-----------------0----3--3--2--3--2--0--2--0--0---|
G ---4-----------------0----4-----------------------0---|
D ---4-----------------0----4-----------------------0---|
A ---2-----------------2----2-----------------------2---|
E ---2-----------------3----2-----------------------3---|
    Am                 F   Am                       F

E ---2--2--0--2--0--2--3----2-----------------------3---|
B ---3-----------------0----3--3--2--3--2--0--2--0--0---|
G ---4-----------------0----4-----------------------0---|
D ---4-----------------0----4-----------------------0---|
A ---2-----------------2----2-----------------------2---|
E ---2-----------------3----2-----------------------3---|
    Am                 F   Am


       Am        G*
     224432    222222(Bar)
      ^^^^      ^^^^
     ^ = emphasis on these strings while struming


     Am G* Am   4x
     Am G* F    2x

                Am                     Am  G*   F
     Well, the cop made the showdown
             Am                  Am  G*  F
     He was sure he was right
            Am                  Am  G*  F
     He had all of the lowdown
               Am                     Am  G* F   
     From the bank heist last night
                                     G  Dm
     His best friend was the robber
                                G   Dm
     And his wife was a thief
                                     G   Dm
     All the children were killers
                                   G   F
     They couldn't get no relief
                                   G   F
     The bungalow was surrounded
                                   G   F
     When a voice loud and clear
                                           G   F
     Said, Come on out with your hands up

     Or we'll blow you out of here.
                                      Am  G*
     There was a face in the window
               F      Am   G*
     The TV cameras rolled
                F              Am    G*
     Then they cut to the announcer
                F              Am  G*    F      G
     And the story was told.

     Am  G*   Am

     The artist looked at the producer
     The producer sat back
     He said what we have got here
     Is a perfect track
     But we don't have a vocal
     And we don't have a song
     If we could get these things accomplished
     Nothin' else could go wrong.
     So he balanced the ashtray
     As he picked up the phone
     And said send me a songwriter
     Who's drifted far from home
     And make sure that he's hungry
     Make sure he's alone
     Send me a cheeseburger
     And a new Rolling Stone.

     There's still crime in the city,
     Said the cop on the beat,
     I don't know if I can stop it
     I feel like meat on the street
     They paint my car like a target
     I take my orders from fools
     Meanwhile some kid blows my head off
     Well, I play by their rules
     That's why I'm doin' it my way
     I took the law in my hands
     So here I am in the alleyway
     A wad of cash in my pants
     I get paid by a ten year old
     He says he looks up to me
     There's still crime in the city
     But it's good to be free.

     C    G    F    G

     Now I come from a family
     That has a broken home
     Sometimes I talk to Daddy
     On the telephone
     When he says that he loves me
     I know that he does
     But I wish I could see him
     I wish I knew where he was
     But that's the way all my friends are
     Except maybe one or two
     Wish I could see him this weekend
     Wish I could walk in his shoes
     But now I'm doin' my own thing
     Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad
     Although my home has been broken
     It's the best home I ever had

      C    G    F    G

     Well, I keep gettin' younger
     My life's been funny that way
     Before I ever learned to talk
     I forgot what to say
     I sassed back to my mom
     I sassed back to my teacher
     I got thrown out of Bible school
     For sassin' back at the preacher
     Then I grew up to be a fireman
     Put out every fire in town
     Put out anything smokin'
     But when I put the hose down
     The judge sent me to prison
     He gave me life without parole
     Wish I never put the hose down
     Wish I never got old.

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