Chords originally posted by Juergen Wuest (HiWi CEMP).
I just indicated the chords through the whole song and transposed it.
(album version)
G C
I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
E Am
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
F C Am F
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
C G F C
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
F G C Am
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
D G
Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
F C Am F
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
C G F C
There's freedom when your walking, even though you're walking slow.
F G C Am
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend.
G C
It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
E Am
but living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
F C Am F
Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
C G F C
That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
F G C Am
And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill,
D G
And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill.
F C Am F
And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
C G F C
And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill.
F G C Am
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend.
G C
Somewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
E Am
Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
F C Am F
But somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
C G F C
You'll find the broken-hearted when you're traveling jungle-style.
F G C Am
Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
D G
Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
F C Am F
Where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend,
C G F C
Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end.
F G C Am
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend.
G C
The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
E Am
The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
F C Am F
The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
C G F C
There's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.
F G C Am
And you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,
D G
The victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
F C Am F
He can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's whirs,
C G F C
He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees.
F G C Am
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend.
