There's Nobody Home On The Range Anymore
Chris Ledoux
Songbook of the American West
The CD is in C
Soundbyte in D
Banjo tuned E, Capo 1
Ed Penney - Rob Parsons)
The o[D]ld man used to dream of the f[G]ortunes he'd s[D]eek
Now he lives in a r[G]oom where you pa[D]y by the w[A]eek
His hands're[D] all battered and his pon[G]y's gone l[D]ame
And his bones always a[G]che when the sky looks [A]like r[D]ain.
Well, he dreams of the old days when bronc bustin' paid
And the wide open spaces where buffalo play
Deep in his mem'ry wild horses ride on
But he knows the good times have all come and gone.
The[G]re's nobody home on the range anym[D]ore
They've closed [D]down the bunkhouse and padlocked the [A]door
Now there's o[D]ilwells and mot[G]els and folks by the sc[D]ore
But there's nobody ho[G]me on the rang[A]e anymor[D]e.
--- Instrumental ---
Now the eagle stop flyin' the night wind is still
And the last coyote's howlin' on some lonely hill
The old man is longin' to lay all down
In his final box canyon the poor side of town.
'Cause he knows his last mountain is two flights of stairs
And his saddle's turned into an old rocking chair
Mornings he wakes up and wonders what for
Cause there's nobody home on the range anymore.
There's nobody home on the range anymore
Chris Ledoux
Songbook of the American West
The CD is in C
Soundbyte in D
Banjo tuned E, Capo 1
Ed Penney - Rob Parsons)
The o[D]ld man used to dream of the f[G]ortunes he'd s[D]eek
Now he lives in a r[G]oom where you pa[D]y by the w[A]eek
His hands're[D] all battered and his pon[G]y's gone l[D]ame
And his bones always a[G]che when the sky looks [A]like r[D]ain.
Well, he dreams of the old days when bronc bustin' paid
And the wide open spaces where buffalo play
Deep in his mem'ry wild horses ride on
But he knows the good times have all come and gone.
The[G]re's nobody home on the range anym[D]ore
They've closed [D]down the bunkhouse and padlocked the [A]door
Now there's o[D]ilwells and mot[G]els and folks by the sc[D]ore
But there's nobody ho[G]me on the rang[A]e anymor[D]e.
--- Instrumental ---
Now the eagle stop flyin' the night wind is still
And the last coyote's howlin' on some lonely hill
The old man is longin' to lay all down
In his final box canyon the poor side of town.
'Cause he knows his last mountain is two flights of stairs
And his saddle's turned into an old rocking chair
Mornings he wakes up and wonders what for
Cause there's nobody home on the range anymore.
There's nobody home on the range anymore
