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
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
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