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Bob Dylan - North Country Blues (Chord)
Submitter: cotswoldkid (10) on 11/21/18
Month Views: 5 | Total Views: 542
Moderator: josielittle | Report This Song?
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North Country Blues.
Bob Dylan.
Album: The Times They Are A-Changing
Am     X02210
Cadd9  3X0010 (Fit where 6th string is struck)
Capo 3.

Intro: Am Cadd9 Am
     Am                              G
Come gather 'round friends, and I'll tell you a tale,
            Am       G              Am
Of when the red iron ore pits ran a-plenty,
But the cardboard filled windows,
And old men on the benches,
         Am           G          Am
Tell you now that the whole town is empty.

       Am                        G
In the north end of town, my own children are grown,
          Am            G                          Am
But I was raised on the other, in the wee hours of youth,
                              Am         G     Am
My mother took sick and I was brought up by my brother.

The iron ore poured, as the years passed the door,
    Am                 G                  Am
The drag lines an' the shovels they was a-humming,
Until one day my brother, failed to come home,
    Am        G              Am
The same as my father before him.

Well a long winter's wait, from the window I watched,
   Am           G                  Am
My friends they couldn't have been kinder,
And my schooling was cut, as I quit in the spring,
   Am         G         Am
To marry John Thomas, a miner.

Oh the years passed again, and the giving was good,
         Am           G            Am
With the lunch bucket filled every season,
What with three babies born, the work was cut down,
     Am         G             Am
To a half-a-day shift with no reason.

Then the shaft was soon shut, and more work was cut,
        Am          G            Am
And the fire in the air, it felt frozen,
Until a man come to speak, and he said, in one week
     Am     G          Am
That number eleven was closing.

They complained in the East, they are paying too high,
     Am            G               Am
They say that your ore ain't worth digging,
That it's much cheaper down, in the South American towns,
          Am     G               Am
Where the miners work almost for nothing.

So the mining gates locked, and the red iron rotted,
        Am           G          Am
And the room smelled heavy from drinking,
When the sad, silent song, made the hour twice as long,
     Am             G         Am
As I waited for the sun to go sinking.

I lived by the window, as he talked to himself,
     Am         G              Am
This silence of tongues it was building,
Till one morning's wake, the bed it was bare,
    Am       G                Am
And I's left alone with three children.

The summer is gone, the ground's turning cold,
    Am            G             Am
The stores one by one they're a-folding,
My children will go, as soon as they grow,
            Am            G                Am
Well, there ain't nothing here now to hold them. 
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