Tom: Db major
Verse 1
E
G#m
E
We
were
branding Zaga's cattle
at Frost Canyon in the spring
G#m
E
when neighboring with each other
was still such a normal thing
F#
E
that a fellow never realized
F#m
that the use of this practical tool
F#
in twenty years would be an exception
C#m
E
and not the common rule.
F#
G#m
The wives were all at the cabin visiting
E
F#m
an d cooking a feast
that'd be served up on long
E
tables with benches
when the sun had moved from the east.
F#
E
Everyone else was down at the trap
F#
F#m
E
in the dust and the wind and the sun,
F#
in unwashed Levi's
F#m
F#
and sweat -stained hats,
E
F#
teaching me work can be fun.
E
D
From the west, a rider came,
F#
leading a packhorse
towards camp.
E
Dad put his hand on my shoulder
F#
E
D
and said, son, there's a last saddle tramp.
F#
Well, to the mind of this 13 -year -old,
E
D
that was romantic as hell.
F#
G#m
He rode up to the herd
F#
to visit with Fred,
and I learned his
D#m
name was Thomas O'Dell.
F#
He asked Fred permission
E
to camp a few days,
F#
rest his horses,
mend a sawbuck.
E
G#m
He's told he's welcome.
E
There's grain in the barn,
and well,
F#
we'd soon all be sent to Chuck.
Well, we had finished the branding
E
and had washed at the creek
and was hunting some shade
and a drink
F#
when Tom yelled out loud, Fred,
your outhouse is locked.
And then just stood there
E
and squinted and blinked.
Well, Fred pulled out a key,
threw it to Tom.
F#
E
He said, you know, vandals,
insurance and such.
They broke all the dishes.
They've shot out her phone.
F#
E
F#
We just can't be here that much."
E
But Tom wasn't about to let this thing drop.
F#
He kept standing there
E
blinking his eyes.
I recognize now,
that's the cue that he gives,
F#
E
just be fore he philosophizes.
F#
He said, Fred, my granddaddy,
Lord rest his soul,
F#
G#m
took a homestead in what's
now Arkansas.
F#
And the first thing he done
was to dig a deep hole
and take some lumber
E
he'd cut from the raw
F#
and built him a three -holer privy,
one that'd stand through the good
E
times and bad.
And for thirty years, Fred,
F#m
F#
he never locked the door once.
F#
Then he turned the place
E
over to Dad.
F#
Then through the Depression,
Dad raised us kids.
F#
There's times we
E
F#
didn't have a dime. time.
E
But unlocked it stood there,
F#
through famine and flood,
E
F#
even through Green Apple time.
E
Now my brother runs that outfitting house
for thirty years,
and that outhouse is still used regular,
E
F#
E
unlocked, I have little fear.
F#
About now, Fred says, Tom,
don't you see it's really not that big a deal,
it's just that these van
E
dals from town'll
tear up anything that ain't handy to steal.
F#
But Tom just kept squintin' and blankin'
F#
and scratchin' his head neath his hat.
We were all on our toes to hear what he'd say next,
E
and he's relishin' that.
E
And he looked at the ground
he'd been towin',
said, Fred, I'd bet my good
E
horseshoe and anvil
that in the seventy -five years
that that outhouse has stood there,
no one ever stole as much as one handful.
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