Tonalité : D major
Verse 1
A
D
Kind friends,
Bm
Em
won't you listen to my pitiful tale
D
Bm
I'm an object of pity
Em
A
and looking quite stale
G
D
I gave up my job
A
D
selling rights, patents, pills
A
To prospect for gold
G
D
in the dreary black hills
Bm
The round house in Cheyenne
Em
D
is filled every night
Bm
With loafers and bur mers
Em
A
of most every plight
G
D
On their back there's no clothes,
A
D
in their pockets no bills
A
And each night they keep leaving
Em
G
D
A
G
D
for the dreary black hills
Bm
So don't travel away,
Em
D
stay at home if you can
Bm
Stay away from that city,
Em
A
they call it Cheyenne
G
D
Where the blue waters roll
A
D
and Comanche bill
We'll lift up your head
A
G
D
in the dreary Black Hills
Kind friends, to conclude,
Bm
Em
my advice I'll unfold
D
Bm
Don't go to the Black Hills
Em
A
and search there for gold
G
D
Railroad speculators,
Em
A
D
their pockets you'll fill
A
G
D
By takin' a trip to the dreary Black Hills
Bm
Em
D
I got to shinin', no gold could I find
Bm
And I thought of the maiden
Em
A
I'd left far behind
G
The rain, hail,
D
Em
A
D
and snow froze plumb to the gills
A
They call me the orphan
G
D
of the dreary black hills
A
They call me the orphan
G
D
of the dreary black hills
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