• American Life by Primus
  • Tabbed by Jim Wade
  • MAIN RIFF (hit the open D and G, and then roll the 345 as hammer-ons.)
  • G ---0-------X--0-------X--X--X-X-X-X-X-|
  • D ---0-3h\4h-5--0-3h\4h-5--5--5-5-5-5-5-|
  • A --------------------------------------|
  • E -3------------------------------------|
  •    S
  • G -----------------------X-X-X-|
  • D ---3\5h-3\5h-3\5h-3\5h-5-5-5-|
  • A -----------------------------|
  • E -3---------------------------|
  •    S
  • VARIENT TWO “hangs on tight to his dignity.......dignity...”
  • G ---0-------X--0-------X--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3-|
  • D ---0-3h\4h-5--0-3h\4h-5--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1-|
  • A ----------------------------------------------------------------|
  • E -3--------------------------------------------------------------|
  •    S
  • G ---0-------X--0-------X--X-X-X--X-X-|
  • D ---0-3h\4h-5--0-3h\4h-5--7-7-7--7-5-|
  • A ------------------------------------|
  • E -3----------------------------------|
  •    S
  • G -3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3--3-3-
  • D -1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1-
  • A ------------------------------------------------------------
  • E ------------------------------------------------------------
  • G -4-4--5-5-|
  • D -2-2--3-3-|
  • A ----------|
  • E ----------|
  • In a town in southernmost Sicily
    Lived a family too proud to be poor
    In the year that fever took father away
    They hastened for American shores
    Now a mother and her son are standing in line
    It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
    And they look to the Statue of Liberty
    For the boy we have American Life  
  • Ong is a Laotian refugee
    He works in the audio trade
    The smoke from flux is filling his lungs
    He's earning minimum wage
    Spending spare time down on San Pablo ave
    Once a week gets a woman for the night
    And he writes home tales of prosperity
    For the boy we have American Life  
  • Bob is an unemployed veteran
    Born and bred in the South Bronx
    He's living off the streets down in east L.A.
    Residing in a cardboard box
    Now he plays a little quit and he has a small dog
    Searching for aluminum cans
    And he holds on tight to his dignity
    He was born into American Life