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Late Monday „Hinter Gittern” (23.10.2014)
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. 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 ... | |
4. 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--------------------------|
5. 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 | | | | | | |
6. Waking up in the Morning (I need You)
Klausdieter Herb / Late Monday (2013)
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D |
| No one who makes my | breakfast, No | one who cleans my house. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| No one who does my | shopping And | drives off | every | louse. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D | A |
| No one who makes me | happy, No | one who removes my | stuff. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| No one who serves me | gladly And | loves me | in the | buff. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Oh, baby, what's | on with you, Why | do you drive me | down? |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| Do a bit of | soulsearching, You | won't find a | better one in | town. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Oh, baby, I | miss you, Who | will preheat my | bed? |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| Oh, baby, come | back to me, Or | soon I | will be | dead. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
| D | G | D | A |
| Waking up in the | morning, | waking up in the | night. |
| D | G | D | A | D |
| There lies no one be | side him, In his | life nothing's | going | right. |
7. The Mighty Quinn
Bob Dylan/Bob Dylan: Self Portrait (1970)
Manfred Mann: Mighty Garvey! (1968)
| n.c. | G |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty Quinn | |
| G | D | G | D | C | G |
| Come all without, | come all with | in - You'll not see n | othing like the | Mighty | Quinn |
| G | C | G | C |
| Ev'rybody's | building | ships and | boats |
| G | C | G | C |
| Some are building | monuments, | others jotting down | notes. |
| G | C | G | C |
| Ev'rybody's | in despair, | ev'ry girl and | boy |
| G | D | C | G |
| But when | Quinn the Eskimo | gets here, Ev'ry | body's gonna jump for | joy. |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty Quinn | |
| G | C | G | C |
| I | like to do just | like the rest, I | like my sugar | sweet |
| G | C | G | C |
| But | jumping queues and | making haste, just | ain't my cup of | meat. |
| G | C | G | C |
| Ev'ryone's | beneath the trees, feeding | pigeons on a | limb |
| G | D | C | G |
| But when | Quinn the Eskimo | gets here, All the | pigeons gonna rum to | him. |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty Quinn | |
| |: | G | / | / | / | | C | / | / | / | | G | / | / | / | | C | / | / | / | | G | / | / | / | | C | / | / | / | :| | G | / | / | / | | D | / | / | / | | C | / | / | / | | G | / | / | / | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Oh, |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty Quinn | |
| G | C | G | C |
| Let me do what I | wanna do, I | can recite 'em | all |
| G | C | G | C |
| Just | tell me where it | hurts and I'll | tell you who to | call. |
| G | C | G | C |
| Nobody can | get no sleep, there's | someone on ev'ryones | toes. |
| G | D | C | G |
| But when | Quinn the Eskimo | gets here, Ev'ry | body's gonna wanna | doze. |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty Quinn | |
| n.c. | G |
| Come all without, come all within - You'll not see nothing like the Mighty | Quinn |
8. 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! |
9. White Room
Jack Bruce, Pete Brown / Cream: Wheels of Fire (1968)
| Dm | C | Am | G | Dm | C | Am | G | Em |
| Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah - | Ah A | h | Ah | Ah | Ah |
| Am | C | D | F | - | G | Am | C | | D |
| In the | white room | with black | curtains | | | near the | stations. | | | |
| F | - | G | Am | C | D | F | - | G | Am | C | | D |
| | | Blackroof | country, | no gold | pavements | , | | tired | starlings, | | | |
| F | - | G | Am | C | D | F | - | G | Am | C | | D |
| | | Silver | horses | run down | moonbeams | | | in your | dark eyes. | | | |
| F | - | G | Am | C | D | F | - | G | Am | C | | D |
| | | Dawnlight | smiles | on your | leaving | , | | my con | tentment. | | | |
| F | G | D | F | E |
| I'll | wait in this | place where the | sun never | shines. |
| G | D | F | G | A | A |
| Wait in this | place where the | shadows | run from them | selves. | |
| You said no strings could secure you at the stations. | |
| Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows. | |
| I walked into such a sad time at the station. | |
| As I walked out felt my own need just beginning. | |
| I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back. | |
| I'll wait for you where the shadows run from themselves. | |
| Dm | C | Am | G | Dm | C | Am | G | Em |
| Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah - | Ah A | h | Ah | Ah | Ah |
| At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd. | |
| Consolation from the old wound now forgotten. | |
| Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes. | |
| She's just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings. | |
| I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd, | |
| Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves. | |
| Dm | C | Am | G | Dm | C | Am | G | Em | Am |
| Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah - | Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah | Ah |
10. 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 |
11. 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. |
12. As Tears go By
Jagger, Richards, & Oldham / the Rolling Stones (1965)
| D | | E | | G | | A | | D | | E | | G | | A | | G | | A | | D | | Bm | | G | | A |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| D | E | G | A |
| It is the | evening of the | day | |
| D | E | G | A |
| I sit and | watch the children | play | |
| G | A | D | Bm |
| Smiling faces | I can see, | but not for | me |
| G | A |
| I sit and watch as tears go | by |
| (+bass) | D | E | G | A |
| | My riches | can't buy ev'ry | thing | |
| D | E | G | A |
| I want to | hear the children | sing | |
| G | A | D | Bm |
| All I hear | is the sound | of rain falling | on the ground |
| G | A |
| I sit and watch as tears go | by |
| D | | E | | G | | A | | D | | E | | G | | A | | G | | A | | D | | Bm | | G | | A |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| D | E | G | A |
| It is the | evening of the | day | |
| D | E | A |
| I sit and | watch the children | play |
| G | A | D | Bm |
| Doin' things I | used to do | they think are | new |
| G | A |
| I sit and watch as tears go | by... |
| D | E | G | A | | D | E | G | D |
| Mmmm | Mmmm | Mmmm | Mmmm | - | Mmmm | Mmmm | Mmmm | Mmmm |
13. Folsom Prison Blues
Johnny Cash/Johnny Cash (1955)
| E |
| I | hear the train a-comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend, |
| E | E7 |
| And | I ain't seen the sunshine since I | don't know when, |
| A7 | E |
| I'm | stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' | on. |
| B7 | E |
| But that | train keeps a-rollin' on down to San An | tone. |
| E |
| When | I was just a baby my momma told me: "Son, |
| E | E7 |
| Always be a good boy; don't | ever play with guns." |
| A7 | E |
| But I | shot a man in Reno, just to watch him | die. |
| B7 | E |
| When I | hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and | cry. |
| E |
| I | bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car. |
| E | E7 |
| They're | prob'ly drinkin' coffee and | smokin' big cigars. |
| A7 | E |
| But I | know I had it comin', I know I can't be | free. |
| B7 | E |
| But those | people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures | me. |
| E |
| Well if they | freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine, |
| E | E7 |
| I | bet I'd move it all a little | farther down the line. |
| A7 | E |
| Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to | stay. |
| B7 | E |
| And I'd | let that lonesome whistle blow my blues a | way. |
14. 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. | | | | | | | | | |
15. Helpless
Neil Young / Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young: Déjà Vu (1970)
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| There is a | town in north On | tario | With dream | comfort memory to | spare, |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| And in my | mind I | still need a place to go, | All | my changes were | there. |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| Blue, blue | windows behind the | stars, | Yellow | moon on the | rise. |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| Big birds | flying across the | sky | Throwing sha | dows on our | eyes. |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| Ba | by can you hear me | now? | The | chains are locked and | tied across the door. |
| B | F# | E |
| Ba | by, sing | with me somehow! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| Blue, blue | windows behind the | stars, | Yellow | moon on the | rise. |
| B | F# | E | B | F# | E |
| Big birds | flying across the | sky | Throwing sha | dows on our | eyes. |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less! |
| B | F# | E |
| Helpless, | helpless, help | less... |
16. 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|---------|---------|---------|-----------|---------|---------|-----------|-----------|
| All Along The Watchtower | 2 |
| As Tears go By | 12 |
| Bad Moon Rising | 4 |
| Copper Kettle | 14 |
| Folsom Prison Blues | 13 |
| Helpless | 15 |
| Horse With No Name | 1 |
| Hurt | 10 |
| Midnight Special | 3 |
| My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue) | 11 |
| The Highwayman | 5 |
| The Mighty Quinn | 7 |
| Wagon Wheel | 16 |
| Waking up in the Morning (I need You) | 6 |
| White Room | 9 |
| Worried Man Blues | 8 |
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