The wind would [C]come when I [Am]called [G]it If I was [C]right like you [Am] [G] A sore [C]stomach from satis[Am]fac[G]tion If I was right like [C]you [Am] [G]   But that’s not [C]where [Am]I belong I love to be wrong I [G]swear It gets [F]me everywhere [C]Sure I’ll [Am]let it in And roll it around on my [G]lips And then [F]I’ll pick [G]Then...