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What I Almost Was by Eric Church
What I Almost Was
Capo on 3rd Fret
G D G D G C G D G C G
G
It was my senior year
C G
I just turned eighteen
Am D
I was a friday night hero, with division one dreams
G C
I had an offer on the table
G
A four year ride
Am D G
'Til that fourth and two and twenty four dive
D C G
I left on a stretcher, wound up on a crutch
D
Walked on that next summer
C G
Wound up getting cut
Am D C G
Flipped off that coach, left that school in the dust
Am C
For letting my dreams go bust
D
But I thank God I ain't what I almost was
G
Yea, I moved on back home
C G Am D
And came awful close to being some son-in-law to some CEO
G C G
Coulda been a corner office, country club, suit and tie man
Am D G
Answerin' to no one, but her and him
D C G
I ran out on his money, ran out on her love
D C G
At four in the morning I loaded my truck
Am D C D
I left my home town in a big cloud of dust
Am C
I just had to follow my gut
D Am C Am C D
And I thank God I ain't what I almost was
G C G
In guitar town I bought this old Epiphone
G C G
Started stringin' chords and words into songs
G C G
I've been putting in time on Sixteenth Avenue
Am D G
Pouring out my heart for tips on a stool
D C G
ain't making a killing, but then theres those nights
D C G
When the song comes together and hits them just right
Am D C G
The crowds on their feet cause they can't get enough
Am C
Of this music I make and I love
C Am
And I thank God I ain't, yea I thank God I ain't,
C D
Yea I thank God I ain't, what I almost was
G C G D G
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version 2
Capo 1st Fret
Intro
A D A E 4X Then A
A
It was my senior year
D A
I just turned eighteen
F#m E A
I was a friday night hero, with division one dreams
A
I had an offer on the table
D A
A four year ride
F#m E A
'Til that fourth and two and twenty four dive
E D A
I left on a stretcher, wound up on a crutch
E
Walked on that next summer
D A
Wound up getting cut
F#m E D A
Flipped off that coach, left that school in the dust
Bm A/C# D
For letting my dreams go bust
D E
But I thank God I ain't what I almost was
A D A E 2x
A
Yea, I moved on back home
D A F#m E A
And came awful close to being some son-in-law to some CEO
A D A
Coulda been a corner office, country club, suit and tie man
F#m E A
Answerin' to no one, but her and him
E D A
I ran out on his money, ran out on her love
E D A
At four in the morning I loaded my truck
F#m E D A
I left my home town in a big cloud of dust
Bm A/C# D
I just had to follow my gut
D E Bm
And I thank God I ain't what I almost was
Guitar Solo
A/C# D Bm A/C# D E
A
In guitar town I bought this old Epiphone
Started stringin' chords and words into songs
I've been putting in time on Sixteenth Avenue
F#m E A
Pouring out my heart for tips on a stool
E D A
I ain't making a killing, but then theres those nights
E D A
When the song comes together and hits them just right
F#m E D A
The crowds on their feet cause they can't get enough
Bm A/C# D
Of this music I make and I love
F#m
And I thank God I ain't, yea I thank God I ain't,
D E
Yea I thank God I ain't, what I almost was
A D A E A D A E A
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