E A E A


[Verse]

        F#m           A               E
We came down from the mountain in the rain
                  G#m          A            B
And our buckskins dried on the warm and the windy plain
                A                               E
When our horses tired, we walked them on up the rise
                   F#m         A                     G#m F#m E
With our hat brims pulled down low all across our eyes


              F#m      A                          E
And the dusty town lay before us, in the setting sun
                G#m        A             B
Turned a bloody red on the barrels of my scattergun
         A                                   E
And your Henry rifle hung behind your saddle bowl
                  F#m      A                      G#m  F#m E
And my hands were sweating buddy and my blood ran cold


                F#m            A                   E
And we circled `round, put our backs to the sunset rays
                     G#m         A                     B
And we moved through town in the shadows and the alley ways
                   A                                E
And we hitched our horses `round behind the grocery store
                 F#m          A                        G#m  F#m
Then you hit the street and I covered from the grocery door
                   F#m           A             E
And the cards were drawn, in the barroom poker game
                G#m          A                          B
But the playing stops when I hear you call the dealer's name
                A                                  E
And your shadow falls like a carpet to the barroom door
                  F#m         A                  G#m    F#m E
And it crossed my mind that I never killed a man before

   
               F#m           A                E
And the figure framed in the doorway made the call
               G#m           A                       B
And your rifle flamed and he crumpled up against the wall
                 A                               E
Then you took it slow as you backed off down the street
              F#m     A                        G#m  F#m E
And I saw you throw a dollar at the dead man's feet



            F#m         A                 E
And we rode out for the mountains and the plains
               G#m            A                   B
Not a word was spoke until we tasted the mountain rain
              A                        E
And a man lay dead in the town we left behind
             F#m           A                           B
And my Pappy said, "Son, I know you're not the killin' kind
                  A                                E
But there comes a time when the thing just must be done
                 G#m          A                       B
And it's a dyin' crime when a gambler slays my eldest son"
               A                          E
And an unarmed boy in a mountain grave is lain
                  F#m           A                G#m           F#m E
And his tears ran down and they mingled with the mountain rain