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DOM 04/10

My Love Shes In America - The Stillwater Hobos

The Stillwater Hobos
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Cifra de My Love Shes In America - The Stillwater Hobos

Veja os acordes de My Love Shes In America, de The Stillwater Hobos, e use os controles desta página para mudar o tom, ajustar a leitura e acompanhar a música enquanto toca. Ver mais cifras de The Stillwater Hobos →

Primeiro acorde: G 4 acordes identificados
G D A Bm A G
Cigarettes in the morning
D Bm A G
Walking hallways of this strange empty home
D Bm A G
Cold whiskey in the evening
D A
Every day now she’s gone.
 
D Bm A D
Connemara’s on the bus route to Behan
Bm A Bm
It’s seven days since the last cow died
D A D
And when the barley’s gone and three lost women
A D
Like the girls and boys in Rome used to cry.
 
Bm D A Bm
Just give me cornbread in the morning so early
D A Bm
For you took my rags in the fold of your hand
D A D
And before you fall just like a feather and linen
A D
Make sure you’ve taken off that black velvet band.
 
D Bm A Bm
They say that roving’s like a candle at midnight
D A Bm
And some take it like the trot of a mule
D A D
But when the road is blind and your own tender lady
A D
You’d take a match to find a firelit fool.
 
Bm D A Bm
How come the way’s not like stairs in a castle
D A Bm
With crimson pictures there to guide you along
D A D
A gilded bottle with a few draughts inside it
A D
Makes the lights in the rafters look so strong.
 
D Bm A D
When your true love’s gone to run like an engine
Bm A Bm
After nine young women with no faces their own
D A D
And in America she spins like a dancer
A D
With barrel straps and some shoes made of stone.
 
Bm D A Bm
I’d guess the porches there are all clouded over
D A Bm
And pipes and fiddles might could use some repair
D A D
And all the horses have been broken in stables
A D
And golden fleeces could be worse for the wear.
 
D Bm A D
But if you ever come to Clifden by sunset
Bm A Bm
Just before the Autumn rains touch the shore
D A D
To stroll along Cleggan’s grey-hooded harbor
A D
Cutting hard like the blade of an oar.
 
Bm D A Bm
You take yourself to a hill past the pierline
D A Bm
To find a cabin of whiskey and milk
D A D
Where St. Coleman used to ply to his master
A D
Like colored linen and mulberry silk.
 
G D A Bm A G
Cigarettes in the morning
D Bm A G
Walking hallways of this strange empty home
D Bm A G
Cold whiskey in the evening
D A
Every day now she’s gone.

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The Stillwater Hobos
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