Key: D
D
G
A
D
G
He was more than just a decent man, best friend I ever had
D
A
G
A
When you're shooting at a coffee can, a thirty eight don't kick that bad
G
A
D
But it kicks right through my bones every second of every day
G
A
Clacking by like cobblestones under broken wheels
D
G
And if the truth be known, I wasn't doing that well
D
G
A
I wasn't paying attention, I brought it on myself
G
A
D
And I blamed it on the gods that seemed to smile on everybody else
G
A
I got so inside out, I didn't know what was real
G
A
Bm
A
G
My fields are empty now
A
Bm
My ground won't take the plow
D
G
A
Bm
It's washed down to gravel and stones
D
G
A
D
It's only good for burying bones
D
G
A
D
A
G
A
I took the pistol off the wall, somebody hollered, "Put it back
D
G
A
Sit down, dad, before you fall down, you got no earthly use for that"
G
A
D
Bm
But I slipped out the kitchen door, saddled up the sway backed mule
G
A
Cinched her tight and swung on board, rode off like a drunken fool
G
A
D
Rode right on off the world, just like it never mattered none
G
A
There wasn't nothing but me and the hurt, and the biting cold, and the heft of that gun
G
A
D
Bm
In the pocket of a sheepskin coat, moonlight in a madman's eye
G
A
For the unfairness of it all, surely something had to die
G
A
Bm
A
G
My fields are empty now
A
Bm
My ground won't take the plow
D
G
A
Bm
It's washed down to gravel and stones
D
G
A
D
It's only good for burying bones
G
A
D
G
A
Bm
A
G
A
D
Bm
D
G
He came out in the lantern light, his face in the flash was the last I saw
D
G
A
Of the world when it was still right, I didn't watch it fall
G
A
D
Bm
I knew I'd hit him good, twice in the chest without a thought
G
A
Turned the mule towards the county seat, like I knew I ought
G
A
Bm
A
G
My fields are empty now
A
Bm
My ground won't take the plow
D
G
A
Bm
It's washed down to gravel and stones
D
G
A
D
It's only good for burying bones
G
A
Bm
A
G
My fields are empty now
A
Bm
My ground won't take the plow
D
G
A
Bm
It's washed down to gravel and stones
D
G
A
D
It's only good for burying bones
Instrumental
D
G
A
D
A
G
A
Lola comes to visit, just nothing I can say
D
G
A
We sit here of an afternoon 'til it's time for her to go away
G
A
D
Bm
She rides home on that same mule that brought me to this place
G
A
Don't know how she even stands to look upon her daddy's face
D
G
He was more than just a decent man, best friend I ever had
D
A
G
A
When you're shooting at a coffee can, a thirty eight don't kick that bad
G
AD