调:G minor•
Verse 1
Cm
Gm
where all the western skies are blue
Bb
Gm
and their guns were filled with lead.
They labeled him Potter.
The legislature knew he was
He always did his best
B
G#m
C#m
where you been so long?
E
D#
G#m
who's gonna sing your song?
Now it's hard to hate a farmer
E
Am
C
Am
once wore a pot upon his head
been this evening?
Am
Dm
Am
E#
Who's gonna
E#
E
Am
E#
Who's gonna sing your lullaby?
On air
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