This is the version recorded for Broadside with Phil Ochs.
There might be a G at "great" but I can't really tell. They do some weird flatpicking
the whole songs and the chords kind of get a little lost (to my ear at least). But this
fine...
Capo: 4th fret
Chorus:
Have you [G]heard about a country where the [C]rivers run [G]free
That?s a [C]place where I [G]think you ought to [D]go
Where the [G]corn stands high
[C]Tall as the sky
On the great plains of [G]old Nebrasky-[D]o
In school I learned of men who died by the gun
But not of those who died by the hoe
The land has drunk the rains
Of many a farmers blood
Now forgotten and buried long a go
And where are the hands that ploughed fields without sleep
And that saved a dying calf without rest
And where?s the feet that walked
Down hot dusty trails
On their way to seek their fortune going west
And where are the fathers who died in the dust
And mothers who died hungry in the snow
And where?s the kids that watched the banks
Plough the houses down
Those are things I guess my teachers never knowed
(CHORUS)
Now you tell me droughts hurt only corn and not men
You smile and say hard times have gone away
I guess I should have listened
To my city politician
Who keeps tellin? me that these are better days
Is there anybody left to walk a muddy mile
Is courage a word that?s only said
Is it true them dusty days were days
That never really were
But are only tales and books to be read
(CHORUS)
There might be a G at "great" but I can't really tell. They do some weird flatpicking
the whole songs and the chords kind of get a little lost (to my ear at least). But this
fine...
Capo: 4th fret
Chorus:
Have you [G]heard about a country where the [C]rivers run [G]free
That?s a [C]place where I [G]think you ought to [D]go
Where the [G]corn stands high
[C]Tall as the sky
On the great plains of [G]old Nebrasky-[D]o
In school I learned of men who died by the gun
But not of those who died by the hoe
The land has drunk the rains
Of many a farmers blood
Now forgotten and buried long a go
And where are the hands that ploughed fields without sleep
And that saved a dying calf without rest
And where?s the feet that walked
Down hot dusty trails
On their way to seek their fortune going west
And where are the fathers who died in the dust
And mothers who died hungry in the snow
And where?s the kids that watched the banks
Plough the houses down
Those are things I guess my teachers never knowed
(CHORUS)
Now you tell me droughts hurt only corn and not men
You smile and say hard times have gone away
I guess I should have listened
To my city politician
Who keeps tellin? me that these are better days
Is there anybody left to walk a muddy mile
Is courage a word that?s only said
Is it true them dusty days were days
That never really were
But are only tales and books to be read
(CHORUS)
