歌手头像-The Stillwater Hobos

My Love Shes In America

音乐人: The Stillwater Hobos

供谱者:wexman
 G   D             A  Bm A G
 Cigarettes in the morning 
         D                Bm            A    G
 Walking hallways of this strange empty home 
      D              Bm      A  G
 Cold whiskey in the evening 
       D           A
 Every day now she’s gone. 


 D                  Bm           A     D
 Connemara’s on the bus route to Behan 
                           Bm       A    Bm
 It’s seven days since the last cow died 
                                D          A     D
 And when the barley’s gone and three lost women 
                            A            D
 Like the girls and boys in Rome used to cry. 


Bm                             D          A     Bm
 Just give me cornbread in the morning so early 
                             D            A     Bm
 For you took my rags in the fold of your hand 
                                 D           A     D
 And before you fall just like a feather and linen 
                                 A            D
 Make sure you’ve taken off that black velvet band. 


 D                             Bm        A        Bm
 They say that roving’s like a candle at midnight 
                           D         A    Bm
 And some take it like the trot of a mule 
                                     D          A    D
 But when the road is blind and your own tender lady 
                              A       D
 You’d take a match to find a firelit fool. 



Bm                             D          A     Bm
 How come the way’s not like stairs in a castle 
                             D            A     Bm
 With crimson pictures there to guide you along 
                            D           A     D
 A gilded bottle with a few draughts inside it 
                                 A            D
 Makes the lights in the rafters look so strong. 


D                              Bm          A      D
 When your true love’s gone to run like an engine 
                                Bm          A    Bm
 After nine young women with no faces their own 
                    D            A     D
 And in America she spins like a dancer 
                             A             D
 With barrel straps and some shoes made of stone. 


Bm                               D           A     Bm
 I’d guess the porches there are all clouded over 
                                   D           A     Bm
 And pipes and fiddles might could use some repair 
                              D         A       D
 And all the horses have been broken in stables 
                             A             D
 And golden fleeces could be worse for the wear. 


D                        Bm         A      D
 But if you ever come to Clifden by sunset 
                        Bm              A     Bm
 Just before the Autumn rains touch the shore 
                           D           A      D
 To stroll along Cleggan’s grey-hooded harbor 
                       A           D
 Cutting hard like the blade of an oar. 

Bm                      D             A        Bm
 You take yourself to a hill past the pierline 
                    D           A     Bm
 To find a cabin of whiskey and milk 
                           D          A       D
 Where St. Coleman used to ply to his master 
                        A        D
 Like colored linen and mulberry silk. 


 G   D             A  Bm A G
 Cigarettes in the morning 
         D                Bm            A    G
 Walking hallways of this strange empty home 
      D              Bm      A  G
 Cold whiskey in the evening 
       D           A
 Every day now she’s gone. 
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