Chord Dry by William Elliott Whitmore

intro : F F . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A# . . . . . . . . . . . F well the song of the blackbird is mighty clear F . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A# on a mornin such as this F . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A# . . . . . . . . . . . . . F and all those useless pains & fears F . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A# those things that i wont miss and the morning glories and queen annes lace baptized by the wind these inspirations are my saving grace in these times were living in Dm . . C . . F . . . . Dm . . C . . F . . . . make a hard man humble make a proud woman hide her eyes from the light of day when all the crops have withered and died and the soil has blown away Dm . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . F the ground is so dry Dm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . F the rivers on its hands and knees Dm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C . . . . . . . . . . . . F . . . . . . . . . . . . . . C and i hear that tune in the breeze the crow is callin and i hear him well up in the red bud tree any the stories that youve lived to tell pass Em down to me whisper the truth into your childrens ears let them know let them understand let them hear the song of the blackbird is mighty loud through the evening mist the moon is up and it looks so proud lookin down on a night , on a night like this