调:C major
Verse 1
F#
B
F#
Woman don't cry and ask me why my
C#
F#
fingers always itch to play the fiddle
Or why it seems I sometimes
I'm just a mortal man
and I don't know the answer to
C#
F#
And pull the horse hair like I used to do
why the good Lord
The rods and the rope on my fiddle
D#m
F#
C#
F#
Don't ask me how I make my fiddles,
C#
F#
sigh or cry or sing at my own bidding
Don't
When I am laid beneath the sun,
I hope God lets me take
C#
F#
but I never cared much for that melody
why the poor blood
B
F#
You might as well be talking to the rosin
and why gods sometimes paint
To bless me with my devil's
F#
C#
F#
jubble
Don't try to reach inside
my mind and quench
Don't waste your mind
wonderin' why I stir
Just be content to lather
Spending memories of the joy
ain't strong enough
C#
F#
To break the horsehair on my fiddle bow
why the good Lord
B
F#
You might as well be talking to the rosin
and why gods sometimes paint
why the good Lord
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调音器E A D G B E
和弦F# B C# D#m
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