Zurück zur Late Monday Seite
Late Monday Kulturbrunch Unna-Massen (17.5.2015)
________________ 1. Teil ________________
1. Horse With No Name
America
| Em | D6add9 |
| On the first part of the | journey |
I was lookin at all the life | |
There were plants and birds and rocks and things | |
There were sand and hills and rings | |
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz | |
and the sky with no clouds | |
the heat was hot and the ground was dry | |
but the air was full of sound | |
| Em9 | Dmaj9 |
| I've been through the desert on a | horse with no name |
it felt good to be out of the rain | |
in the desert you can remember your name | |
'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain | |
la la la la lalala la la la la la | |
After two days in the desert sun | |
my skin began to turn red | |
After three days in the desert fun | |
I was looking at a river bed | |
And the story it told of a river that flowed | |
made me sad to think it was dead | |
I've been through the desert ... | |
After nine days I let the horse run free | |
'cause the desert had turned to sea | |
there were plants and birds and rocks and things | |
there were sand and hills and rings | |
The ocean is a desert with it's life underground | |
and the perfect disguise above | |
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground | |
but the humans will give no love | |
I've been through the desert ... | |
G--------------|-------------|
D--------------|-------------|
A--7--5--7--5--|-7-----5-----|
E--------------|----7-----5--|
2. All Along The Watchtower
Bob Dylan / Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland (1967)
| |: | Am | | | G | F | G | | :| |
| | //// | / | | / | //// | / | / | |
| Am | G | F | G | Am |
| "There must be some | kind of way | out of here," | / / / / | / |
| G | F | G | Am |
Said the | joker to the | thief: | / / / / | / |
"There's too much confusion, | |
Businessmen, they drink my wine; | |
None of them along the line - | |
Know what any of it is worth!” | |
All along the watchtower, | |
While all the women came and went, | |
“No reason to get excited,” | |
The thief, he kindly spoke: | |
“There are many here among us | |
Who feel that life is but a joke. | |
But you and I, we’ve been through that, | |
And this is not our fate! | |
So let us not talk falsely now, | |
the hour is getting late!” | |
All along the watchtower, | |
While all the women came and went, | |
Two riders were approaching, | |
And the wind began to howl. | |
While all the women came and went | |
3. Heart of Gold
Neil Young/Neil Young: Harvest (1972)
| Em | C | D | G |
| I wanna | live, | I wanna | give, |
| Em | C | D | G |
| I've been a | miner for a | heart of | gold. |
| Em | C | D | G |
| It's these ex | pressions | I never | give |
| Em | G |
| that keep me searchin' for a | heart of gold, |
| C | Bm | Am | G |
| And I'm gettin' old. | | | |
| Em | G |
| Keep me searchin' for a | heart of gold, |
| C | Bm | Am | G |
| And I'm gettin' old. | | | |
| Em | C | D | G |
| I've been to | Hollywood, | I've been to | Redwood, |
| Em | C | D | G |
| I'd cross the | ocean for a | heart of | gold, |
| Em | C | D | G |
| I've been in | my mind, | it's such a | fine line |
| Em | G |
| that keeps me searchin' for a | heart of gold, |
| C | Bm | Am | G |
| And I'm gettin' old, | | | |
| Em | G |
| Keeps me searchin' for a | heart of gold, |
| C | Bm | Am | G |
| And I'm gettin' old. | | | |
| Em | D | Em |
| Keep me searchin' for a | heart of | gold, |
| D | Em |
You keep me searchin' and I'm | growin' | old. |
| D | Em |
Keep me searchin' for a | heart of | gold, |
| G | C | Bm | Am | G |
I've been a miner for a | heart of gold | . | | | |
4. Midnight Special
Huddie Leadbetter
| G# | C# | G# |
| Well, you wake up in the | morning Hear the ding-dong | ring |
| D#7 | G# | G#7 |
Go marching to the | table, See the same old | thing! | |
| G# | C# | G# |
| Well, it's on the | table, Knife and fork and a | pan! |
| D#7 | G# | G#7 |
If you say anything a- | bout it You're in trouble with the | man | |
| C# | G# |
|: Let the minight | special Shine it's light on | me; |
| D#7 | G# | G#7 |
Let the midnight | special Shine it's everloving light on | me! | :| |
| G# | C# | G# |
| If you ever go to | Houston, Boy you'd better walk | right. |
| D#7 | G# | G#7 |
You better not | stagger And you better not | fight. | |
| C# | G# |
'Cause the Sheriff will ar | rest you And he'll carry you | down; |
| D#7 | G# | G#7 |
You can bet your bottom | dollar: You're Sugarland | bound! | |
Let the minight special ... | |
| G# | C# | G# |
| Yonder came Doc' | Melton, Just the day | before, |
| C# | G# |
And he gave me a | tablet, when he opend the | door. |
| G# | C# | G# |
| But there never was a | doctor Trav'llin' over the | land, |
| G# | C# | G# |
| that could cure the | fever of a convict | man. |
Let the minight special ... | |
| G# | C# | G# |
| Yonder comes Miss | Rosie, Tell me, how do you | know? |
| D#7 | G# |
I can tell it by her | apron And the dress she | wore. |
| C# | G# |
Umbrella on her | shoulder, Piece of paper in her | hand. |
| D#7 | G# |
She's a-sayin' to the | captain: "I want my lifetime | man!" |
Let the minight special ... | |
5. Joanna
Jon Allen / Sweet Defeat (2011)
| G | | C | | G | | C | | G | C |
| | | | | | | | | From the dying arms of twilight, let's | run into the night. |
| G | C |
Let's | fly like straight shot arrows across the | sky. |
| G | C |
From the | ashes of an old life, let's | catch this newborn flame; |
| G | C |
| Hold it close and never let it | die. |
| Am7 | D | G | C |
| Go with me Jo | anna, | go with me in | time; |
| Am | D | G |
A | pair of chancers | on an open | road. |
| Am7 | D | G | C |
| We'll train our feet to | follow the | footprints of our | dreams. |
| Am | D | G | G | | C | | G | | C |
| Put your hand in | my hand and let's | go. | | | | | | | |
Let's sail upon the evening, now the wind is getting high. | |
Let's go outside and drink the air like wine. | |
This time we'll make a clean break; there'll be no looking back. | |
We'll leave these streets of sorrow far behind. | |
Go with me Joanna, go with me in time; | |
Let's get away before we get too old. | |
We'll cut across the border, into unclaimed land. | |
Put your hand in my hand and let's go. | |
| Em | C | D | Em | C | D |
| Somewhere there's a | place to | be; | Where all we have is | all we | need. |
| G | C |
| Maybe there's a reason that | lies beyond these walls; |
| G | C |
| Maybe there's a meaning to be | found. |
| G | (+bass) | C |
' | Cause I | can't escape this feeling, this | vision in my mind, |
| G | C |
Of the | day we put down roots in virgin | ground. |
Go with me Joanna, go with me in time; | |
I'll take you where the wild flowers grow. | |
We'll ride on through the darkness, and get there with the dawn; | |
Put your hand in my hand - let's go. | |
6. The Rose
Amanda McBroom / Bette Midler: The Rose (1980)
| D | A | G | A | D |
Some say | love it is a | river that | drowns the ten | der | reed, |
| D | A7 | G | A | D |
Some say | love it is a | razor that | leeds your | soul to | bleed. |
| F#m | Bm7 | G | A7sus4 | | A7 |
Some say | love it is a | hunger an | endless aching | need, | | |
| A7 | D | A | G | A | D |
| I say | love it is a | flower and | you it's | only | seed. |
| D | A | G | A | D |
It's the | heart afraid of | breaking that | never | learns to | dance, |
| A | G | A | D |
It's the dream afraid of | waking but | never | takes the | chance. |
| F#m | Bm7 | G | A7sus4 | | A7 |
It's the | one who won't be | taken who | cannot seem to | give, | | |
| D | A | G | A | D |
And the | soul afraid of | dying that | never | learns to | live |
| D | A | G | A | D |
When the | night has been too | lonely and the | road has | been too | long, |
| D | A | G | A | D |
And you | think that love is | only for the | lucky | and the | strong. |
| F#m | Bm7 | G | A7sus4 | | A7 |
Just | remember in the | winter, far | beneath the bitter | snows, | | |
| D | A | G | A | (n.c.) | D |
Lies the | seed that with the | sun's love in the | spring | bec | omes the | rose. |
7. Bad Moon Rising
John Fogerty/Creedence Clearwater Revival: Green River (1969)
| |: | F# | C# | B | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | :| |
| | // / | / | / | // | / | / | / | / | / | |
| F# | C# | B | F# | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# |
| I see a | bad | moon a- | risin'. | | | | | |
| F# | C# | B | F# | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# |
| I see | trouble's | on the | way. | | | | | |
| F# | C# | B | F# | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# |
| I see | earth | quakes and | lightnin'. | | | | | |
| F# | C# | B | F# | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# |
| I see | bad | times | today. | | | | | |
| B | F# |
| Don't go round tonight, it's | bound to take your life, |
| C# | B | F# | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# |
| There's a | bad moon on the | rise! | | | | | |
I hear hurricanes a blowin' | |
I know the end is comin' soon. | |
I feel the river's overflowin' | |
I hear the voice of rage and ruin. | |
Don't go round tonight, it's bound to take your life, | |
There's a bad moon on the rise! | |
| Solo: | |: | F# | C# | B | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# | :| |
| | | | | | | | | | | |
| B | F# | C# | B | F# | F#6 | F# | F#6 | F# | Intro riff |
| | | | | | | | | | |
Hope you got your things together. | |
Hope you're quite well prepared to die. | |
Looks like we're in for nasty weather. | |
One eye is taken for an eye. | |
Don't go round tonight, it's bound to take your life, | |
There's a bad moon on the rise! | |
| B | F# |
| Don't go round tonight, it's | bound to take your life, |
| C# | B | F# | C# | B | F# | (Intro Riff) |
| There's a | bad moon on the | rise! | | | | |
G--------------------------|
D--4--4--------4--4--2--4--|
A--------4--2--------------|
E--------------------------|
8. The Highwayman
Jimmy Webb / the Highwaymen (J. Cash et.al.): Highwayman (1985)
| C#m | B | / | / | A | / | / | / | C#m7 | / / / | B | / | A | / | B | / / / |
| I was a | highway | man | , | a | long the | coach roads | I did | ride, | | Sword | and | pistol | by my | side, | |
| F#m | / | C#m | / | B | / | A | / / / |
| Many | a | young maid | lost her | baubles | to my | trade, | |
| F#m | / | C#m | / | B | / | A | / / / |
| Many | a | soldier | shed his | lifeblood | on my | blade, | |
| C#m | | / | B | / | A | B | E | / | / / | | / | / | B | / / / | | / / / / |
| | The | basterds | hung me | in the | spring of | twenty- | five, | | But | I am | still a | live... | | |
| C#m | B | A | C#m7 | B | A | B |
| I was a | sailor, I was | born upon the | tide, | With the | sea I did a | bide, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| I sailed a | schooner round the | horn of Mexi | co, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| I went a | loft and furled the | main sail in a | blow, |
| C#m | | B | A | C#m | E | B |
| | And when the | yards broke off they | said that | I've got | killed, But I am living | still... |
| C#m | B | A | C#m7 | B | A | B |
| I was a | dam builder, | across the river deep and | wide, | Where steel and | water did col | lide, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| A place called | Boulder on the | wild Colora | do, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| I slipped and | fell into the | wet concrete be | low, |
| C#m | | B | A | C#m | E | B |
| | They buried | me in that gray | tomb that | knows no | sounds, But I am still a | round... |
| B | | E | E/D# | C#m7 | B | A | E/G# | F#m | / / / | A | B | E |
| | I'll always be a | round, and a | round, and a | round, and a | round, and a | round | | | | | | |
| C#m | B | A | C#m7 | B | A | B |
| I'll fly a | starship ' | cross the universe di | vide, | And when I | reach the other | side, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| I'll find a | place to rest my | spirit if I | can, |
| F#m | C#m | B | A |
| Perhaps I | may become a | highwayman a | gain, |
| C#m | | B | A | C#m | E | B |
| | Or I may | simply be a | single | drop of | rain, But I will re | main... |
| B | | E | E/D# | C#m7 | B | A | E/G# | F#m | / / / | A | B | E |
| | And I'll be back a | gain, and a | gain, and a | gain, and a | gain, and a | gain | | | | | | |
9. Roll in My Sweet Baby's Arms
trad.
| G | D |
| Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's | arms! |
| G | C |
Gonna | lay 'round this shack till the | mail train comes back, |
| D | G |
And | roll in my sweet baby's | arms! |
| G | D |
I | ain't gonna work on the railroad, Ain't gonna work on the | farm. |
| G | C |
Gonna | lay 'round this shack 'til the | mail train comes back |
| D | G |
And | roll in my sweet baby's | arms! |
Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Gonna lay 'round this shack till the mail train comes back, | |
And roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Where were you last Friday night - While I was lying in jail? | |
Walking the street with another man, Wouldn't even go my bail! | |
Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Gonna lay 'round this shack till the mail train comes back, | |
And roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
I know your parents don't like me - They turn me away from your door. | |
If I had my life to live over - I wouldn't go there no more! | |
Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Gonna lay 'round this shack till the mail train comes back, | |
And roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Mama was a beauty operator, Sister could weave and spin. | |
Daddy's got an interest in an old cotton mill - Watch that money roll in. | |
Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Gonna lay 'round this shack till the mail train comes back, | |
And roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Sometimes there's a change in the ocean, Sometimes there's a change in the sea. | |
Sometimes there's a change in my own true love - But there'll never be a change in me. | |
Roll in my sweet baby's arms, Roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
Gonna lay 'round this shack till the mail train comes back, | |
And roll in my sweet baby's arms! | |
________________ 2. Teil ________________
10. Worried Man Blues
trad.
| G | G7 |
It | takes a worried man to | sing a worried song, |
| C | G |
It | takes a worried man to sing a worried | song! |
| G | G7 |
It | takes a worried man to | sing a worried song, |
| Am | D7 | D | G |
I'm worried | now but I | won't be | worried | long |
| G | G7 |
I | went across the river, and | I laid down to sleep. |
| C | G |
I | went across the river, and I laid down to | sleep. |
| G | G7 |
I | went across the river, and | I laid down to sleep. |
| Am | D7 | D | G |
When I woke | up I had | shackles | on my | feet! |
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song - It takes ... | |
Twenty-nine links of chain around my leg, | |
I had, twenty-nine links of chain around my leg! | |
Twenty-nine links of chain around my leg, | |
And on each link An initial of my name! | |
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song - It takes ... | |
I asked the judge, What's gonna be my fine? | |
I asked the judge, What's gonna be my fine? | |
I asked the judge, What's gonna be my fine? | |
"Twenty-one years On the Rocky Mountain line." | |
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song - It takes ... | |
The train pulled in, a sixteen coaches long. | |
The train pulled in, a sixteen coaches long. | |
The train pulled in, a sixteen coaches long. | |
The girl I love, she's on that train and gone. | |
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song - It takes ... | |
I looked down the track, as far as I could see, | |
I looked down the track, as far as I could see, | |
I looked down the track, as far as I could see. | |
Little Baby's hand was waving after me. | |
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song - It takes ... | |
| Am | (n.c.) | G |
I'm worried | now but I | won't be worried | long! |
11. I Shall Be Released
Bob Dylan / the Band: Music from Big Pink (1968)
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| They say everything can be re | placed - | That every | distance | is not | near. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| So I remember every | face - | Of every | man who | put me | here. |
| |: | | A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| | I | see my light come | shining - | From the | west un | to the | east. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | A | :| |
| Any day now, | Any way now, | I shall | be re | leased! | |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| They say every man needs pro | tection, | They say every | man must | rise and | fall. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| Yet I swear I see my re | flection, | Placed so | high a | bove this | wall. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
I | see my light come | shining - | From the | west un | to the | east. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | A |
| Any day now, | Any way now, | I shall | be re | leased! |
| |: | | A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| | I | see my light come | shining - | From the | west un | to the | east. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | A | :| |
| Any day now, | Any way now, | I shall | be re | leased! | |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| Right here next to me in this | lonely crowd, | There's a | man who | swears he's not to | blame. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| All day long I hear him | cry so loud, | Callin' | out that | he's been | framed. |
| |: | | A | Bm | C#m | Bm | E | A |
| | I | see my light come | shining - | From the | west un | to the | east. |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | A | :| |
| Any day now, | Any way now, | I shall | be re | leased! | |
| A | Bm | C#m | Bm | A |
| Any day now, | Any way now, | I shall | be re | leased! |
12. Hurt
Trent Reznor / Nine Inch Nails: The Downward Spiral (1994); Johnny Cash (2002)
| Bm | | D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
| | I | hurt my | self to | day - to | see if | I still | feel. |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
I | focus | on the | pain - the | only | thing that's | real. |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
The | needle | tears a | hole - the | old fa | miliar | sting. |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | A | Bm |
Try to | kill it | all a | way - but I re | member | every | thing | ! |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| What have I be | come - | my sweetest | friend? |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| Everyone I | know - goes a | way in the | end! |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| And you could have it | all - | my empire of | dirt. |
| Bm | G | D | A | D |
| I will let you | down - | I will make you | hurt | ! |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
| I wear this | crown of | thorns - u | pon my | liars | chair |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
| Full of | broken | thoughts - | I can | not re | pair |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | Bm |
Be | neath the | stains of | time - the | feelings | disap | pear |
| D | E | Bm | D | E | A | Bm |
| You are | someone | else - | I am | still right | here | . |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| What have I be | come - | my sweetest | friend? |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| Everyone I | know - goes a | way in the | end! |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| And you could have it | all - | my empire of | dirt. |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| I will let you | down - | I will make you | hurt! |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| If I could start a | gain - | A million miles a | way |
| Bm | G | D | A |
| I would keep my | self - | I would find a | way |
13. From Hank to Hendrix
Neil Young / Neil Young: Harvest Moon (1992)
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| From Hank to | Hendrix, I | walked these streets with | you. |
| Em | G | C | Am |
| Here I am with this | old guitar, | doing what I | do. |
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| I always ex | pected that | you would see me | through. |
| Em | G | C | Am | G |
| I never believed in | much, but | I believed in | you. | |
| F | C | G |
| Can we get it together, can we | still stand side by | side. |
| F | C | G |
| Can we make it last, | like a musical | ride? |
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| From Marilyn to | Madonna, I | always loved your | smile, |
| Em | G | C | Am |
| Now we're headed for the | big divorce, | California | style. |
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| I found myself | singin' | like a long lost | friend |
| Em | G | C | Am | G |
| The same thing that | makes you live can | kill you in the | end. | |
| F | C | G |
| Can we get it together, can we | still stand side by | side. |
| F | C | G |
| Can we make it last, | like a musical | ride? |
| harp solo: | G | Bm | | C | | Am | | Em | | G | | C | | Am |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| Sometimes it's dis | torted | not clear to | you. |
| Em | G | C | Am |
| Sometimes the | beauty of love just | comes ringin' | through. |
| G | Bm | C | Am |
| New glass in the | window, | new leaf on the | tree, |
| Em | G | C | Am | G |
| new distance | between us | you and | me. | |
| F | C | G |
| Can we get it together, can we | still stand side by | side. |
| F | C | G |
| Can we make it last, | like a musical | ride? |
14. One too many Mornings
Bob Dylan / Bob Dylan: The Times They Are A-Changin' (1964)
| C | Am | F | C |
Down the | street the dogs are | barkin' - And the | day is a-gettin' | dark. |
| C | Am | F | G7 |
As the | night comes in a- | fallin', The | dogs'll lose their | bark. |
| C | G7 | F | C |
An' the | silent night will | shatter - From the | sounds inside my | mind, |
| C | Am | F | G7 | C | F | G7 | C |
For I'm | one too many | mornings - And a | thousand | miles be | hind. | | | |
| C | Am | F | C |
From the | crossroads of my | doorstep - My | eyes they start to | fade, |
| C | Am | F | G7 |
As I | turn my head back | to the room - Where my | love and I have | laid. |
| C | G7 | F | C |
An' I | gaze back to the | street, The | sidewalk and the | sign; |
| C | Am | F | G7 | C |
And I'm | one too many | mornings - An' a | thousand | miles be | hind. |
| C | Am | F | C |
It's a | restless hungry | feeling - That don't | mean no one no | good, |
| C | Am | F | G7 |
When | ev'rything I'm a- | sayin' - You can | say it just as | good. |
| C | G7 | F | C |
You're | right from your | side, I'm | right from | mine. |
| C | Am | F | C | F | G7 | C |
We're both | just too many | mornings - An' a | thousand miles | behind. | | | |
15. Slip Slidin' Away
Paul Simon (1977)
| A | F#m |
Slip sliding a | way, slip sliding a | way |
| A | E | D | E | A |
You know the | near your desti | nation, the | more you slip | sliding a | way |
| F#m | A |
Whoah and I know a | man, he came from my | hometown. |
| D | E | D | D7 |
He wore his | passion for his | woman like a thorny | crown. | |
| A | F#m |
He said | Dolores, I live in | fear. |
| A | E | D | E | A |
My love for | you's so over | powering, I'm | afraid that I | will dis | appear. |
| A | F#m |
Slip sliding a | way, slip sliding a | way! |
| A | E | D | E | A |
You know the | near your desti | nation, the | more you slip | sliding a | way. |
I know a woman, (who) became a wife; | |
These are the very words she uses to describe her life. | |
She said a good day ain't got no rain | |
She said a bad day is when I lie in the bed; And I think of things that might have been | |
Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. | |
You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. | |
And I know a father who had a son. | |
He longed to tell him all the reasons for the things he'd done. | |
He came a long way just to explain; | |
He kissed his boy as he lay sleeping, Then he turned around and he headed home again | |
Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. | |
You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. | |
Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. | |
You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. | |
Whoah God only knows, God makes his plan. | |
The information's unavailable to the mortal man. | |
We're workin' our jobs, collect our pay. | |
Believe we're gliding down the highway, when in fact we're slip sliding away. | |
Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. | |
You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. | |
Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. | |
You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. | |
16. My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)
Neil Young & Jeff Blackburn / Neil Young & Crazy Horse: Rust Never Sleeps (1978)
| Am | G | Fmaj7 | Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| My | My, Hey | Hey - | Rock and | roll is here to | stay. |
| C | G | Am | F | Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| It's better to | burn out than to | fade a | way - | My | My, Hey | Hey. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| Out of the | blue and into the | black. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| They give you | this, but you pay for | that. |
| C | G | Am | F |
| And once you're | gone you can | never come | back. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
When you're | out of the | blue And into the | black. |
| solo: | Am | G | Fmaj7 | Am | G | Fmaj7 | C | G | Am | F | Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| The king is | gone but he's not for | gotten. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| Is this the | story of Johnny | Rotten? |
| C | G | Am | F |
| It's better to | burn out than it | is to | rust. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| The king is | gone but he's not for | gotten. |
| Am | G | Fmaj7 | Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| Hey | Hey, My | My - | Rock and | roll will never | die. |
| C | G | Am | F | Am | G | Fmaj7 |
| There's more to the | picture than | meets the | eye - | Hey | Hey, My | My. |
17. The Spanish Lady
Paddy Reilly
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| As I went down to | Dublin City | At the | hour of | twelve at | night; |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| Who should I see but a | Spanish Lady, | Washing her | feet by | candle | light |
| F# | C#7 | F# | C#7 |
| First she washed them, | then she dried them | Over a fire of | amber coals |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
In | all my life I | never did see a | maid so | sweet a | bout the | soul! |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| Whack for the Toora | Loora Laddy - | Whack for the | Toora | Loora | Lay! |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | C# | F# |
| Whack for the Toora | Loora Laddy - | Whack for the | Toora | Loora | Lay! |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| As I came back through | Dublin city | at the | hour of | half past | eight; |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| Who should I see but the | Spanish lady, | brushing her | hair in | broad day | light |
| F# | C#7 | F# | C#7 |
| First she tossed it, | then she combed it | on her lap was a | silver comb |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| In all my life I | never did see a | maid so | fair since | I did | roam! |
Whack for the Toora Loora Laddy - Whack for the Toora Loora Lay... | |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| As I went back through | Dublin city | as the | sun be | gan to | set; |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| Who should I see but the | Spanish lady, | catching a | moth in a | golden | net! |
| F# | C#7 | F# | C#7 |
| When she saw me | then she fled me | lifting her pettycoat | over her knee |
| F# | D#m | B | F# | G#m | C# |
| In all my life I | never did see a | maid so | shy as the | Spanish La | dy! |
Whack for the Toora Loora Laddy - Whack for the Toora Loora Lay... | |
As I was leaving Dublin city On that morning sad of heart; | |
Lonely was I for the Spanish lady, Now that forever we must part! | |
But still I always will remember All the hours we did enjoy | |
But then she left me sad at parting Gone forever was my joy! | |
Whack for the Toora Loora Laddy - Whack for the Toora Loora Lay... | |
18. Wagon Wheel
Bob Dylan, Ketcham Secor / Old Crow Medicine Show: Old Crow Medicine Show (2004)
| A | E | F#m | D |
| Headed down south to the | land of the pines, And I'm | thumbin' my way into | North Caroline. |
| A | E | D |
| Starin' up the road - And pray to | God I see | headlights. |
| A | E | F#m | D |
I | made it down the coast in | seventeen hours, | Pickin' me a bouquet of | dogwood flowers, |
| A | E | D |
And I'm a | hopin' for Raleigh - I can | see my baby to | night. |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D |
So | rock me mama like a | wagon wheel; | Rock me mama any | way you feel - | Hey, | mama | rock me! |
| A | E | F#m | D |
| Rock me mama like the | wind and the rain; | Rock me mama like a | south-bound train - |
| A | E | D | A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D |
| Hey, | mama | rock me! | | | | | | | |
| A | E | F#m | D |
| Runnin' from the cold | up in New England I was | born to be a fiddler in an | old-time stringband. |
| A | E | D |
My | baby plays the guitar - | I pick a banjo | now. |
| A | E | F#m | D |
Oh, the | North country winters keep a | gettin' me now, Lost my | money playin' poker so I | had to up and leave. |
| A | E | D |
But I | ain't a turnin' back - To | livin' that old life | no more! |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D |
So | rock me mama like a | wagon wheel; | Rock me mama any | way you feel - | Hey, | mama | rock me! |
| A | E | F#m | D |
| Rock me mama like the | wind and the rain; | Rock me mama like a | south-bound train - |
| A | E | D | |: | A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D | :| |
| Hey, | mama | rock me! | | | | | | | | | |
| A | E | F#m | D |
| Walkin' to the south | out of Roanoke - I caught a | trucker out of Philly. Had a | nice long talk. |
| A | E | D |
But | he's a headed west from the | Cumberland Gap - To | Johnson City, Tennessee |
| A | E | F#m | D |
And I | gotta get a move on | before the sun, I hear my | baby callin' my name and I | know that she's the only one. |
| A | E | D |
And | if I die in Raleigh - At | least I will die | free! |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D |
So | rock me mama like a | wagon wheel; | Rock me mama any | way you feel - | Hey, | mama | rock me! |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | E | D | A |
| Rock me mama like the | wind and the rain; | Rock me mama like a | south-bound train - | Hey, | mama | rock me! | |
Bass A / / / | E / / / | F#m / / | D / / + / | A / / / | E / / / | D / / + / | D / / + / |
G|---------|---------|---------|-----------|---------|---------|-----------|-----------|
D|-----2---|-----2---|-----4---|-0---------|-----2---|-----2---|-0---------|-0---------|
A|-0-------|-2-------|-4-------|---2-0-0-2-|-0-------|-2-------|---2-0-0-2-|---2-0-0-2-|
E|---------|---------|---------|-----------|---------|---------|-----------|-----------|
19. Copper Kettle
Albert Frank Beddoe / Bob Dylan: Self Portrait (1970)
| G | Am7 | G | Am7 | | G | Am7 | G | | Am7 |
| Get you a | copper | kettle, | | | get you a | copper | coil, | | |
| G | Am7 | G | | Am7 | | C | Cmaj7 | Am |
| Fill it with | new-made | corn mash | | | and | never | more you'll | toil. |
| C | G | C | G |
You'll just | lay there by the | juniper, | while the moon is | bright, |
| C | Cmaj7 | Am | Am7 | G | | Am7 | | G | | Am7 | | G |
| Watch them | jugs a- | filling - in the | pale moon | light. | | | | | | | | |
| G | Am7 | G | Am7 | | G | Am7 | G | | Am7 |
| Build you a | fire with | hickory, | | | hickory, | ash and | oak, | | |
| G | Am7 | G | Am7 | | C | Cmaj7 | Am |
| Don't use no | green or | rotten wood; | | they'll | get you | by the | smoke. |
| C | G | C | G |
We just | lay there by the | juniper, | while the moon is | bright, |
| C | Cmaj7 | Am | Am7 | G | | Am7 | | G | | Am7 | | G |
| Watch them | jugs a- | filling - in the | pale moon | light. | | | | | | | | |
| G | Am7 | G | Am7 | | G | Am7 | G | | Am7 |
My | daddy, | he made | whiskey; | | | my granddaddy, | he did | too. | | |
| G | Am7 | G | Am7 | C | Cmaj7 | Am |
| We ain't | paid no | whiskey | tax since | seventeen- | ninety- | two. |
| C | G | C | G |
We just | lay there by the | juniper, | while the moon is | bright, |
| C | Cmaj7 | Am | Am7 | G |
| Watch them | jugs a- | filling - in the | pale moon | light, |
| Am7 | G | | Am7 | | G | | Am7 | | G | ... |
In the | pale moon | light. | | | | | | | | | |
________________ Zugaben ________________
20. Helpless
Neil Young / Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young: Déjà Vu (1970)
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| There is a | town in north On | tario | With dream | comfort memory to | spare, |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| And in my | mind I | still need a place to go, | All | my changes were | there. |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| Blue, blue | windows behind the | stars, | Yellow | moon on the | rise. |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| Big birds | flying across the | sky | Throwing sha | dows on our | eyes. |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| Ba | by can you hear me | now? | The | chains are locked and | tied across the door. |
| D | A | G |
| Ba | by, sing | with me somehow! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| Blue, blue | windows behind the | stars, | Yellow | moon on the | rise. |
| D | A | G | D | A | G |
| Big birds | flying across the | sky | Throwing sha | dows on our | eyes. |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| D | A | G |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less... |
21. Knockin' on Heaven's Door
Bob Dylan
| |: | | G | D | Am7 | | | G | D | C | | :| |
| | | Oooh | Oooh | Oooh | - | | Oooh | Oooh | Oooh | | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Mama take this | badge off of | me, |
| G | D | C |
| I can't | use it any | more. |
| G | D | Am7 |
| It's getting | dark, too dark for me to | see; |
| G | D | C | D |
| I feel I'm | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. |
| G | D | C | D |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. |
| G | D | C | D |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Mama, put my | guns in the | ground. |
| G | D | C |
| I can't | shoot them any | more. |
| G | D | Am7 |
| That long black | cloud is comin' | down. |
| G | D | C | D |
| I feel I'm | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. |
| G | D | C | D |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. |
| G | D | C | D |
| Knock, knock, | knockin' on heaven's | door. | |
| G | D | Am7 | G | D | C |
| Ooh - | ooh - | ooh - ooh | Ooh - | ooh - | ooh ... |
G / / / D / / / Am7 / / / G / / / D / / / C / / D
G-0---0-0-|---------|------------|-0---0-0-|---------|-------------|
D---------|-0---0-0-|------------|---------|-0---0-0-|----------0--|
A---------|---------|-0----2-3-2-|---------|---------|-3--2--0-----|
E---------|---------|------------|---------|---------|-------------|
All Along The Watchtower | 2 |
Bad Moon Rising | 7 |
Copper Kettle | 19 |
From Hank to Hendrix | 13 |
Heart of Gold | 3 |
Helpless | 20 |
Horse With No Name | 1 |
Hurt | 12 |
I Shall Be Released | 11 |
Joanna | 5 |
Knockin' on Heaven's Door | 21 |
Midnight Special | 4 |
My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue) | 16 |
One too many Mornings | 14 |
Roll in My Sweet Baby's Arms | 9 |
Slip Slidin' Away | 15 |
The Highwayman | 8 |
The Rose | 6 |
The Spanish Lady | 17 |
Wagon Wheel | 18 |
Worried Man Blues | 10 |
Zurück zur Late Monday Seite
Zurück zum Liederbuch