Tom Dooley (Doc Watson version)
(Chorus)
[G]Hang your head, Tom [C]Dooley, [C]Hang your head and [G]cry;
[D]You killed poor Laurie [G]Foster, And you [C]know you're bound to [G]die.
[G]You left her by the [C]roadside [C]Where you begged to be [G]excused;
[D]You left her by the r[G]oadside, Then you [C]hid her clothes and [G]shoes.
(Chorus)
[G]You took her on the [C]hillside [C]For to make her your [G]wife;
[D]You took her on the [G]hillside, And t[C]here you took her [G]life.
[G]You dug the grave f[C]our feet long [C]And you dug it three feet [G]deep;
[D]You rolled the cold clay [G]over her [C]And tromped it with your [G]feet.
(Chorus)
[G]"Trouble, oh it's [C]trouble [C]A-rollin' through my [G]breast;
[D]As long as I'm a-[G]livin', boys, They [C]ain't a-gonna let me [G]rest.
[G]I know they're gonna [C]hang me, T[C]omorrow I'll be [G]dead,
[D]Though I never even h[G]armed a hair [C]On poor little Laurie's [G]head."
(Chorus)
[G]"In this world and [C]one more [C]Then reckon where I'll [G]be;
[D]If is wasn't for Sheriff [G]Grayson, I[C]'d be in Tenne[G]see.
[G]You can take down my ol[C]d violin A[C]nd play it all you [G]please.
[D]For at this time to[G]morrow, boys, It'll [C]be of no use to [G]me."
(Chorus)
[G]"At this time to-[C]morrow W[C]here do you reckon I'll [G]be?
[D]Away down yonder in the [G]holler H[C]angin' on a white oak [G]tree.
(Chorus)
(enjoy this Doc Watson version)
jrbmusic
(Chorus)
[G]Hang your head, Tom [C]Dooley, [C]Hang your head and [G]cry;
[D]You killed poor Laurie [G]Foster, And you [C]know you're bound to [G]die.
[G]You left her by the [C]roadside [C]Where you begged to be [G]excused;
[D]You left her by the r[G]oadside, Then you [C]hid her clothes and [G]shoes.
(Chorus)
[G]You took her on the [C]hillside [C]For to make her your [G]wife;
[D]You took her on the [G]hillside, And t[C]here you took her [G]life.
[G]You dug the grave f[C]our feet long [C]And you dug it three feet [G]deep;
[D]You rolled the cold clay [G]over her [C]And tromped it with your [G]feet.
(Chorus)
[G]"Trouble, oh it's [C]trouble [C]A-rollin' through my [G]breast;
[D]As long as I'm a-[G]livin', boys, They [C]ain't a-gonna let me [G]rest.
[G]I know they're gonna [C]hang me, T[C]omorrow I'll be [G]dead,
[D]Though I never even h[G]armed a hair [C]On poor little Laurie's [G]head."
(Chorus)
[G]"In this world and [C]one more [C]Then reckon where I'll [G]be;
[D]If is wasn't for Sheriff [G]Grayson, I[C]'d be in Tenne[G]see.
[G]You can take down my ol[C]d violin A[C]nd play it all you [G]please.
[D]For at this time to[G]morrow, boys, It'll [C]be of no use to [G]me."
(Chorus)
[G]"At this time to-[C]morrow W[C]here do you reckon I'll [G]be?
[D]Away down yonder in the [G]holler H[C]angin' on a white oak [G]tree.
(Chorus)
(enjoy this Doc Watson version)
jrbmusic
