Whiskey Myers — Ballad Of A Southern Man

    	    	Вступление

[Verse 1]

G        D           Cadd9  G
My first rifle was a .243
     Em7       D         Cadd9         G 
That Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me
G                         D            Cadd9  Em7
and-they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand
Em7             D            Cadd9      G
I guess that’s somethin' you don't understand

     G      D       Cadd9  G
Now, I grew up on a prison farm
Em7               D            Cadd9 G
sneakin' pulls-of-shine from a mason jar
G          D           Cadd9       Em7
used to go fishing out Pickle Cree-eek dam
Em7                D             Cadd9       G
but I guess that’s somethin' you don't understand


[Chorus]

Cadd9             G
Grandma's in the kitchen
Cadd9             D
Papa's done passed on
Cadd9             G
We sit out on the front porch
       Em7     D   Cadd9
Just a-pickin’ on a song
           Cadd9         G
and there's blood on the table
         Cadd9             D
'cause we work for what we have
          Em7    D       Cadd9
and I was raised in this land
Em7            D             Cadd9       G
I guess that’s somethin' you don't understand.


[Verse 2]

    G       D        Cadd9    G
And I still fly that southern flag
Em7       D          Cadd9    G
whistling Dixieland enough to brag,
      G            D        Cadd9  Em7
and I know all the words to "Simple Man"
Em7            D             Cadd9       G
I guess that’s something you don't understand.

G              D            Cadd9    G
I pledge my allegiance the original way
Em7           D               Cadd9      G
I say, "Merry Christmas," not "Happy Holidays"
           G         D       Cadd9      Em7
They can’t change my ways, I know who I am
Em7            D             Cadd9       G
I guess that’s somethin' you don't understand.


[Chorus]

Cadd9             G
Grandma's in the kitchen
Cadd9            D
Papa's done passed on
Cadd9             G
We sit out on the front porch
       Em7     D    Cadd9
Just a-pickin’ on a song
Cadd9                    G
and there's blood on the table
         Cadd9             D
'cause we work for what we have
Em7          D       Cadd9
I was raised in this land
Em7            D             Cadd9       G
I guess that’s somethin' you don't understand


[Bridge]

Bb                      F
They'll grind us up in a big machine
C                         G
They'll feed us all on the same beliefs
Bb   F                      C
Holy dollar and a credit card
Bb                  F
but we got a way of doing things
C                    G          
and no bankers gonna steal from me;
D
---they wanna tear it all a-part


[Chorus]

        Cadd9     G
Grandma's in the kitchen
Cadd9            D
Papa done passed on
Cadd9             G
We sit out on the front porch
       Em7     D   Cadd9
Just a-pickin’ on a song
              Cadd9        G
and there's a bible on the table
         Cadd9             D
'cause he bled for what we have
               Em7       D       Cadd9
and that's the ballad of southern man
   Em7             D            Cadd9       G
but I guess that’s something you don't understand


[Outro]

G        D         Cadd9 Em7
My first rifle was a .243
Em7       D         Cadd9         G
Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me		
    

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