D | A | G | F#m | |
(5) | There | is a young c | owboy, he l | ives on the r | ange, |
Bm | G | D | F#m | |
(5) | His h | orse and his c | attle are his o | nly comp | anions, |
Bm | G | D | F#m | |
(4) | He w | orks in the s | addle and he sl | eeps in the c | anyons, |
G | D | A | Em7 | A7 | |
(6) | W | aiting for su | mmer, his p | astures to c | hange. |
G | A7sus | D | |
(4) | And | as the moon rises | he sits by his f | ire, |
Bm | G | D | A | |
(4) | Th | inking about wo | men and gl | asses of b | eer, |
G | A7sus | D | |
(4) | And cl | osing his eyes as the | doggies ret | ire, |
Bm | G | D | |
(4) | He s | ings out a s | ong which is s | oft but it’s clear, |
E7sus | E7 | Asus | A | |
(6) | A | s if maybe s | omeone could | hear. |
D | G | A7sus | D | |
(4) | He says g | oodnight you m | oonlight | ladies, |
Bm | G | D | |
(4) | R | ock-a-bye sw | eet baby Ja | mes, |
Bm | G | D | |
(4) | D | eep greens and bl | ues are the co | lors I choose, |
E7sus | Asus | |
(4) | Won’t you | let me go down in my d | reams, |
G | A7sus | D | |
(4) | And r | ock-a-by | sweet baby J | ames. |
D | A | G | F#m | |
(5) | Well the f | irst of De | cember was c | overed with s | now, |
Bm | G | D | F#m | |
(5) | And s | o was the t | urnpike from St | ockbridge to B | oston, |
Bm | G | D | F#m | |
(4) | The B | irkshires seemed d | ream-like on acc | ount of that f | rostin’, |
G | D | A | Em7 | A7 | |
(6) | W | ith ten miles be | hind me and t | en thousand m | ore to go. |
G | A7sus | D | |
(4) | There’s a s | ong that they sing when they t | ake to the h | ighway, |
Bm | G | D | A | |
(4) | A s | ong that they s | ing when they t | ake to the s | ea, |
G | Asus | D | |
(4) | A s | ong that they sing of their h | ome in the s | ky, |
Bm | G | D | |
(4) | Maybe y | ou can bel | ieve it, if it h | elps you to sleep, |
E7sus | E7 | Asus | A | |
(6) | But s | inging w | orks just f | ine for me. |