Tom: Db major•
Verse 1
Db
Gb
Ab
Db
All day
on the
Gb
prairie in the saddle I ride
Db
Ab
Not even a dog hoist to trot by my side
Bbm
with chips gathered round
Db
Ab
And boil my own coffee
Gb
I wash in the pool and I sleep on a sack,
Ab
I carry my wardrobe on my
Db
Gb
Ab
Db
back.
For want of an oven
Gb
I cook bread in a pot,
Db
Ab
And sleep on the ground for want of a cot.
Db
My ceiling is the sky,
Bbm
my floor is the grass,
Ab
My music is the lowing of
My books are the brooks,
Gb
my sermons the stones,
Db
Gb
Ab
Db
on his pulpit of bones.
And then if my cooking's
Db
Ab
You can't blame me for wanting to eat
Bbm
who sleeps more profound
Ab
Than the big puncher boy
Db
who sleeps on the ground
My books teach me ever
Ab
My sermons, that small things
Db
Gb
Ab
Gb
Db
I should not des pise.
My parson remarks from
Gb
his pul pit of thrones,
Db
That fortune favors those who
Ab
look out for their own.
Bbm
lies a gulf very wide,
Ab
Db
Some lucky fellow may call her his bride.
Gb
My friends gently hint I am coming to grief,
Ab
But men must make money,
Db
Gb
Ab
Db
and women have beef.
But why, it is I can ne 'er
Gb
Db
understand,
For each of the patriarchs
Db
Bbm
Abraham emigrated in search of a range
Ab
When water was scarce,
Gb
Old Isaac owned cattle in charge of Esau
Ab
And Jacob punched cows
Db
for his father -in -law
Outro 1
Db
Gb
Gb
Ab
Ab
Db
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AcordesDb Gb Ab Bbm
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