CAPO 3
INTRO: Am C G Am
[Am]CIVIL WAR HAD [C]LEFT YOU TO [G]OLD TO BE [Am]15
[Am]ROBBED YOU OF YOUR [C]CHRISTIAN SOUL AND [G]LEFT YOU DOWN RIGHT [Am]MEAN
[G]YANKEE CARPETBAGGER SHOULDNT A CUSSED [Am]YOUR PA
WELL, [Am]THE BUSINESS END OF A [C]REBEL GUN WAS THE [G]LAST THING HE EVER [Am]SAW.
CHORUS
THERES [D]AN EVIL WIND A BLOWING ACROSS A MIDNIGHT OH SO [Am]COLD
ANOTHER [D]DEAD MANS MOTHERS CRYIN FOR A SON WHO WON'T COME [Am]HOME
THE [G]ONLY KIND OF LAW OUT HERE IS A TOOTH, FANG & [Am]CLAW
[Am]YEA, YOU NEVER TRUST [C]NOBODY AND PUSH [G]THE WEAKEST TO THE[Am] WALL
YOU RODE STRAIGHT TO TEXAS WITH THE DEVIL BY YOUR SIDE
THE INSURRECTION OF YOUR SOUL, COST 32 MEN THEIR LIVES
SAID YOUR FAVORITE WAY OF DYIN, WAS SWINGING BY A ROPE
WELL IT DID NOT MATTER ALL THAT MUCH, TELL THE DEVIL i'M HARD TO CHOKE
CHORUS
AT THE AGE OF 27, MAN WE FINALLY GOT YOU HUNG
IN THE END YOUD BEG FORGIVENESS, FOR THE DAMAGE THAT YOU DONE
IN THAT JAIL CELL DOWN IN GIDDINGS, ON THE NIGHT BEFORE YOU'D DIE
SAID JAILER, PULL THAT ROPE REAL TIGHT, IN THE MORNIN FOR HELL I RIDE
CHORUS
INTRO: Am C G Am
[Am]CIVIL WAR HAD [C]LEFT YOU TO [G]OLD TO BE [Am]15
[Am]ROBBED YOU OF YOUR [C]CHRISTIAN SOUL AND [G]LEFT YOU DOWN RIGHT [Am]MEAN
[G]YANKEE CARPETBAGGER SHOULDNT A CUSSED [Am]YOUR PA
WELL, [Am]THE BUSINESS END OF A [C]REBEL GUN WAS THE [G]LAST THING HE EVER [Am]SAW.
CHORUS
THERES [D]AN EVIL WIND A BLOWING ACROSS A MIDNIGHT OH SO [Am]COLD
ANOTHER [D]DEAD MANS MOTHERS CRYIN FOR A SON WHO WON'T COME [Am]HOME
THE [G]ONLY KIND OF LAW OUT HERE IS A TOOTH, FANG & [Am]CLAW
[Am]YEA, YOU NEVER TRUST [C]NOBODY AND PUSH [G]THE WEAKEST TO THE[Am] WALL
YOU RODE STRAIGHT TO TEXAS WITH THE DEVIL BY YOUR SIDE
THE INSURRECTION OF YOUR SOUL, COST 32 MEN THEIR LIVES
SAID YOUR FAVORITE WAY OF DYIN, WAS SWINGING BY A ROPE
WELL IT DID NOT MATTER ALL THAT MUCH, TELL THE DEVIL i'M HARD TO CHOKE
CHORUS
AT THE AGE OF 27, MAN WE FINALLY GOT YOU HUNG
IN THE END YOUD BEG FORGIVENESS, FOR THE DAMAGE THAT YOU DONE
IN THAT JAIL CELL DOWN IN GIDDINGS, ON THE NIGHT BEFORE YOU'D DIE
SAID JAILER, PULL THAT ROPE REAL TIGHT, IN THE MORNIN FOR HELL I RIDE
CHORUS
