Grateful Dead - Brown Eyed Woman [akordy a text na Supermusic]

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Grateful Dead - Brown Eyed Woman

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^DmGone are the days when the ^Fox fall down,
^CTake up the yoke and plow the ^Bbfields around.
^DmGone are the days when the ^Fladies said, "Please,
^BbGentle Jack Jones, won't you come home to ^Fme?"
^CBrown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The ^Bbbottle was dusty but the ^Fliquor was ^Cclean.
^BbSound of the thunder with the ^Frain fallin' ^Dmdown,
And it ^Gmlooks like the old man's^Bb gettin' ^Fon.
1920 when he stepped to the bar,
Drank to the dregs of the whiskey jar.
1930 when the walls caved in,
He made his way sellin' red-eyed gin.
Delilah Jones was the mother of twins,
Two times over and the rest were sins.
Raised eight boys, only I turned bad,
Didn't get the lickin's that the other ones had.

BRIDGE:
^CmTumble down shack in ^BbBigfoot ^Fcounty,
^CmSnowed so hard that the ^Bbroof caved ^Fin.
^DmDelilah ^CJones went to ^Bbmeet her ^AmGod,
And the ^Bbold man never was the same ^Fagain.
Daddy made whiskey and he made it well,
Cost two dollars and it burnt like hell.
I cut hick'ry just to fire the still,
Drink down a bottle and ready to kill.
And in the key of D:
Brown-Eyed Woman
(Hunter, Garcia)
^BmGone are the days when the ^Dox fall down,
^ATake up the yoke and plow the f^Gields around.
^BmGone are the days when the ^Dladies said, "Please,
^GGentle Jack Jones, won't you come home to ^Dme?"
^ABrown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The ^Gbottle was dusty but the ^Dliquor was ^Aclean.
^GSound of the thunder with the ^Drain fallin' ^Bmdown,
And it ^Emlooks like the old man'^Gs gettin'^D on.
1920 when he stepped to the bar,
Drank to the dregs of the whiskey jar.
1930 when the walls caved in,
He made his way sellin' red-eyed gin.
Delilah Jones was the mother of twins,
Two times over and the rest were sins.
Raised eight boys, only I turned bad,
Didn't get the lickin's that the other ones had.

BRIDGE:
^AmTumble down shack in ^GBigfoot ^Dcounty,
^AmSnowed so hard that the ^Groof caved ^Din.
^BmDelilah ^AJones went to m^Geet her G^Amod,
And the ^Gold man never was the same ^Dagain.
Daddy made whiskey and he made it well,
Cost two dollars and it burnt like hell.
I cut hick'ry just to fire the still,
Drink down a bottle and ready to kill.