Pay Grade

	  		Dm                                                     Am 
You call me every night and tell me that you feel like shit 
                                                   Dm 
I say "I'm…sorry,…is there any…way I can help with it?" 
                                                   Am 
I…listen to you scream the world is simply your enemy 
                                                    Dm 
With death and taxes what's the point of tryna be happy 

Dm 
And I've had bad days bad years 

Bad boys and bad careers 
Am 
But I'm still standing here 
   G 
I understand you darling but at the end of the day 
Dm 
You just won't help yourself 

Rather give someone else 
Am 
A glimpse into your hell 
G 
Pour all your problems on 'em 

Just so you can walk away 

Dm 
Boy I'm too young 
            Gm7 
To be your mother 
          Dm 
Not smart enough 
                      Gm7 
To be your therapist either 
                Dm 
And I'm always here if you needa talk 
          Gm7 
But maybe first you should talk a walk 
               Dm 
'Cause I'm not gonna make you change 
       Gm7 
That's above my pay grade babe