Pre>intro: g em d. . G em d. Here's to the state of richard nixon. G f. For underneath his borders the devil draws no line. G f. If you drag his muddy rivers nameless bodies you will find.
Here's to the State of Mississippi. For underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines. If you drag her muddy river, nameless bodies you will find. Whoa the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.
Here's a song 'bout, 'Hazard, Kentucky'. . Well, some people think that unions are too strong. Union leaders should go back where they belong. But I wish that they could see a little more of poverty.
In the tube where I was born. I could have sworn. There was so much to see. There was so little to be. But I was free. . World at my command. Through the dots I ran.
Jackson, Mississippi is a mighty white town. The white folks, they like to keep the black folks down. They think they'll be alright but there's gonna be a fight.
Millionaires and paupers walk the hungry street. Rich and poor companions of the restless beat. Strangers in a foreign land, strike a match with a trembling hand.
First snow on the autumn ground. Covers grass where she once lay down. Blanket of white, grass out of sight,. Where did she go, tell me first snow.. .
I'm just a typical American boy. From a typical American town. I believe in God and Senator Dodd. And an keepin' old Castro down. . And when it came my time to serve.
You laugh at the people. Who walk outside on the sidewalk. And you talk to yourself so much. When you see other people you can't talk. . This time it's true.
Oh, the shadows of doubt are in many a mind. Lookin' for an answer they're never gonna find. But they'd better decide 'cause they're runnin' out of time.
And the night comes again to the circle studded sky. The stars settle slowly, in loneliness they lie. 'Til the Universe explodes as a falling star is raised.
I don't know but it seems that every single dream's. Painted pretty pictures in the air. Then it tumbles in despair and it starts to bend. Until by the end it's a nightmare.
Come, get out of the way, boys. Quick, get out of the way. You'd better watch what you say, boys. Better watch what you say. . We've rammed in your harbor and tied to your port.
Pre>(capo I). . Am dm. Just across the railroad tracks. Am g. On the far side of the town. Am dm. All the people there are black. Am g. And they live in colored town.
Pre>g. I'm just a city boy. C. Born and bred. Am d. It's a city life I've led. G em. My pasture was a street. C cm. I've never climbed a tree. G d. But that's all right with me.
I found him by the stage last night. He was breathing his last breath. A bottle of gin and a cigarette. Was all that he had left. . I can see you make the music.
Sit by my side, come as close as the air. And share in a memory of gray. And wander in my words. Dream about the pictures that I play of changes. . Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall.
The peons of Mexico. Long have known suffering and pain. Zapata and Villa. Have died there, fighting in vain. . Rube'n Jaramillo kept up the tradition.
Wade into the river, through the rippling shallow watter. Steal across the thirsty border, bracero. Come bring your hungry bodies to the golden fields of plenty.
Creek was running by the road. And the Buckeye sun was a-shinin'. I rode my bike down Alum Creek Drive. When I was a boy in Ohio. The English teacher he didn't care.