chords originally posted by juergen wuest ( hiwi cemp ) .
i just indicated the chords through the whole song and transposed it .
album version :
G C
i was walking by the graveyard , late last friday night ,
E Am
i heard somebody yelling , it sounded like a fight .
F C Am F
it was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night ,
C G F C
pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight .
F G C Am
so often have i wondered where these homeless brothers go ,
D G
down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show ,
F C Am F
where the police cannot find them , where the wanted men can go .
C G F C
there’s freedom when your walking , even though you’re walking slow .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
it’s hard to be a pack rat , it’s hard to be A ’bo ,
E Am
but living’s so much harder where the heartless people go .
F C Am F
somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
C G F C
that jesus on the highway was a lost hobo .
F G C Am
and they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill ,
D G
and they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill .
F C Am F
and they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill ,
C G F C
and they’re sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
somewhere there was a woman , somewhere there was a child ,
E Am
somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild .
F C Am F
but somewhere’s just like nowhere when you leave it for a while ,
C G F C
you’ll find the broken – hearted when you’re traveling jungle – style .
F G C Am
down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men ,
D G
where those who keep their senses have them taken back again ,
F C Am F
where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage , where madmen don’t pretend ,
C G F C
where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
the ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night ,
E Am
the whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light .
F C Am F
the children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight ,
C G F C
there’s no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight .
F G C Am
and you who leave on promises and prosper as you please ,
D G
the victim of your riches often dies of your disease ,
F C Am F
he can’t hear the factory whistle , just the lonesome freight train’s whirs ,
C G F C
he’s living on good fortune , he ain’t dying on his knees .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
+2 tones ( sounds better to me )
A D
i was walking by the graveyard , late last friday night ,
F# Bm
i heard somebody yelling , it sounded like a fight .
G D Bm G
it was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night ,
D A G D
pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight .
G A D Bm
so often have i wondered where these homeless brothers go ,
E A
down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show ,
G D Bm G
where the police cannot find them , where the wanted men can go .
D A G D
there’s freedom when your walking , even though you’re walking slow .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
it’s hard to be a pack rat , it’s hard to be A ’bo ,
F# Bm
but living’s so much harder where the heartless people go .
G D Bm G
somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
D A G D
that jesus on the highway was a lost hobo .
G A D Bm
and they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill ,
E A
and they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill .
G D Bm G
and they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill ,
D A G D
and they’re sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
somewhere there was a woman , somewhere there was a child ,
F# Bm
somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild .
G D Bm G
but somewhere’s just like nowhere when you leave it for a while ,
D A G D
you’ll find the broken – hearted when you’re traveling jungle – style .
G A D Bm
down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men ,
E A
where those who keep their senses have them taken back again ,
G D Bm G
where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage , where madmen don’t pretend ,
D A G D
where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
the ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night ,
F# Bm
the whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light .
G D Bm G
the children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight ,
D A G D
there’s no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight .
G A D Bm
and you who leave on promises and prosper as you please ,
E A
the victim of your riches often dies of your disease ,
G D Bm G
he can’t hear the factory whistle , just the lonesome freight train’s whirs ,
D A G D
he’s living on good fortune , he ain’t dying on his knees .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
chords originally posted by juergen wuest ( hiwi cemp ) .
i just indicated the chords through the whole song and transposed it .
album version :
G C
i was walking by the graveyard , late last friday night ,
E Am
i heard somebody yelling , it sounded like a fight .
F C Am F
it was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night ,
C G F C
pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight .
F G C Am
so often have i wondered where these homeless brothers go ,
D G
down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show ,
F C Am F
where the police cannot find them , where the wanted men can go .
C G F C
there’s freedom when your walking , even though you’re walking slow .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
it’s hard to be a pack rat , it’s hard to be A ’bo ,
E Am
but living’s so much harder where the heartless people go .
F C Am F
somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
C G F C
that jesus on the highway was a lost hobo .
F G C Am
and they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill ,
D G
and they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill .
F C Am F
and they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill ,
C G F C
and they’re sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
somewhere there was a woman , somewhere there was a child ,
E Am
somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild .
F C Am F
but somewhere’s just like nowhere when you leave it for a while ,
C G F C
you’ll find the broken – hearted when you’re traveling jungle – style .
F G C Am
down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men ,
D G
where those who keep their senses have them taken back again ,
F C Am F
where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage , where madmen don’t pretend ,
C G F C
where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
G C
the ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night ,
E Am
the whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light .
F C Am F
the children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight ,
C G F C
there’s no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight .
F G C Am
and you who leave on promises and prosper as you please ,
D G
the victim of your riches often dies of your disease ,
F C Am F
he can’t hear the factory whistle , just the lonesome freight train’s whirs ,
C G F C
he’s living on good fortune , he ain’t dying on his knees .
F G C Am
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
D G C
that homeless brother is my friend .
+2 tones ( sounds better to me )
A D
i was walking by the graveyard , late last friday night ,
F# Bm
i heard somebody yelling , it sounded like a fight .
G D Bm G
it was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night ,
D A G D
pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight .
G A D Bm
so often have i wondered where these homeless brothers go ,
E A
down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show ,
G D Bm G
where the police cannot find them , where the wanted men can go .
D A G D
there’s freedom when your walking , even though you’re walking slow .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
it’s hard to be a pack rat , it’s hard to be A ’bo ,
F# Bm
but living’s so much harder where the heartless people go .
G D Bm G
somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
D A G D
that jesus on the highway was a lost hobo .
G A D Bm
and they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill ,
E A
and they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill .
G D Bm G
and they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill ,
D A G D
and they’re sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
somewhere there was a woman , somewhere there was a child ,
F# Bm
somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild .
G D Bm G
but somewhere’s just like nowhere when you leave it for a while ,
D A G D
you’ll find the broken – hearted when you’re traveling jungle – style .
G A D Bm
down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men ,
E A
where those who keep their senses have them taken back again ,
G D Bm G
where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage , where madmen don’t pretend ,
D A G D
where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
A D
the ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night ,
F# Bm
the whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light .
G D Bm G
the children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight ,
D A G D
there’s no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight .
G A D Bm
and you who leave on promises and prosper as you please ,
E A
the victim of your riches often dies of your disease ,
G D Bm G
he can’t hear the factory whistle , just the lonesome freight train’s whirs ,
D A G D
he’s living on good fortune , he ain’t dying on his knees .
G A D Bm
smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can ,
E A D
that homeless brother is my friend .
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