Artist: Dan Tyminski
Song: Making Hay
Album: Wheels
Capo 2nd fret
Intro guitar play
IC--C--G-I----I----I
IF--F--C-I----I----I
IF--F--C-I----I----I
IG--G--F-I----I----I
Verse 1
     C             F                G               C
He never went to school beyond the day he turned sixteen
    F                C             G                 F
And I can’t say that I know being that poor really means
     C             F           G            Am
He wouldn’t be mistaken for a man of high degree
            F                C         (play second half of intro here)
But he was just as smart as anyone to me
Verse 2 (same as the other verses, without 'intro'-ending)
 
The first thing I remember till the day I moved away
Up at every morning I don’t believe he missed a day
It was always after sundown when he pulled up in the yard
     F             C                 G              F
He'd put me on the tractor and let me drive into the barn
[Chorus]
        G                C                F               C
Plow or planter, rake or baler, they were all the same to me
     F             C              G         C
When I grow up a farmer is all I ever wanna be
    G               C                  F                 C
I know that he was tired but he would sit and watch me play
    F       C             G             (Play full intro)
In my imagination I was really making hay
I graduated high-school just before I turned eighteen
Two years into college when I had a change of dreams
I’d wear a damned old necktie like those city fellows do
And move out in the suburbs like a million other fools
I met a brown haired beauty who was sweet as she could be
The day that we were married he stood right there next to me
I knew that he was tired and he seemed so out of place
He never said a word but it was written on his face
[Chorus]
I couldn’t read the signs that she was falling out of love
Lonely turned to lonelier till she finally had enough
So I packed up my suits and ties and gave them all away
And headed for the country just in time for making hay
[Outro]
No I won’t be mistaken for a man of high degree
'Cause I was born a farmer and that’s all I’ll ever be
Tabbed by Sigmoid