Текст песни Four Chords

Quarterly meetings, the board of directors We try and determine how best to proceed I said: I play piano, I start learning last Thursday I spent every cent of the label money on this thing Show me four chords It should be enough to make something that nobody wanted And all your friends, they hate my guts They only listen to noise punk or nothing And they haven't listened to any new music since college It all makes them sick to their stomachs And I never liked them, so they can all shove it Fuck