Am       
I'm a breather, mail receiver 
                           Em 
And I don't know where I stand 
                        Dm 
Not since someone informed me 
                            Em 
That my house was built on sand 
Em 
And it's not the earth beneath me 
                D               Em 
It's just the concept of the land 

Am 
And I'm standing on the corner 
                             Em 
When the buildings they all fell 
                            Dm 
If you blink once you're a goner 
                Em 
Everything just goes pell-mell 

                D 
It's a real hard sell 
                Em 
My conceptual hell 
                        Bm 
Not even good for kindling, no 
                                Em 
When the buildings they all fell 

        D        G      D       G 
I'm a breather, mail receiver 
Em              C               Em 
Bottom feeder just getting by 
        C                               G 
And you know it's all just par for the course 
        C                                  G 
But you blame it on some non-existent force 
Em              C 
Oh yeah, of course 
                G                               C 
You know you can't ride the concept of the horse 
But still I try 

Am 
In a cartoon desert landscape 
Em 
With a pair of ACME jetskates 
Am 
Focused on my destination 
Em 
I seem to have forgot my station 
Am 
Now it's time to face the nation 
C       G       D       Em 

Am 
And I'm riding to meet you 
                           Em 
On a brown gray speckled mare 
                                D 
But there's something that unnerves me 
                        Em 
Like I'm riding on thin air 
                        D 
These futile doubts desert me 
                        Em 
Thinking no one really cares 

Am               
And I'm jumping over fences 
                   Em 
On this obstacle course 
                                D 
But it seems I'm getting nowhere 
                        Em 
On the concept of the horse 

                D 
It's a real hard sell 
                Em 
My conceptual hell 
                        Bm 
Not even good for kindling 
                                Em 
When the buildings they all fell 

        D    G          D       G 
I'm a breather, bottom feeder 
           Em   C               Em 
How many liters must I imbibe 
        C                                    G 
And you know it's all just par for the course 
        C                                  G 
But you blame it on some non-existent force 
        Em      C 
Oh yeah, of course 
                G                               C 
You know you can't ride the concept of the horse 
But still I try