F                    G
He's got looks that books take pages to tell
          C                 Em           Am
He's got a face to make you fall on your knees
         F                    G
He's got money in the bank to thank and I guess
  C                 Em           Am
You could think he's livin' at ease


         F                    G
Like lovers of the open shore -- what's the matter
         F               
While you're sitting there with so much more -- what's the matter
         F                    G
While you're wondering what the hell to be
     C                 Em           Am
Are you wishing you were ugly like me?


F                                  G
Blame it on the girls who know what to do
Em                                   Am
Blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you 
F                                  G
Blame it on your mother for the things she said
Em                                   Am
Blame it on your father but you know he's dead


F                  G
Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys
F                  G
Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys


          F                    G
Life could be simple but you never fail
 C                 Em           Am
To complicate it every single time
          F                    G
You could have children and a wife, a perfect little life
C                 Em           Am
But you blow it on a bottle of wine


          F                    G
Like a baby you're a stubborn child -- what's the matter
          F                    G
Always looking for an axe to grind -- what's the matter
          F                    G
While you're wondering what the hell to do
   C                 Em           Am
We were wishing we were lucky like you



Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys
F                  G
Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys


          F                    G
Life could be simple but you never fail
 C                 Em           Am
To complicate it every single time
          F                    G
You could have children and a wife, a perfect little life
C                 Em           Am
But you blow it on a bottle of wine


F                  G
Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys
F                  G
Blame it on the girls
Em               Am
Blame it on the boys