调：C major•
Verse 1
C
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
C
I think. think it's a Western
F
number.
Well, the architect angel
G
C
Dm
F
just a dirty mile down on the borderline
Am
Dm
And hustled young cattle for slaughter,
Am
G
F
broke electric static of a religious strain
C
F
Am
Dm
and though he was not an addict
Am
C
Dm
C
F
he wore scars upon his veins
Am
Dm
Like a young girl holds her first pimp,
Am
C
Dm
C
F
he held his Bible limp.
Am
G
Oh, from desert bars and church bazaars,
G
F
C
from vulgar places looking for a game.
and chamber grease
Am
Dm
C
Am
F
in souped up hydroplanes,
Am
C
F
bearing great cowboys names.
he said,
uptown they call me the
G
Dm
G
Brooklyn Kid.
C
G
Dm
F
that's just what they did.
F
Am
Dm
Tied tight to his leg like he was gonna do.
F
G
Am
He was stomping a step
Judah ranch
stood in one hand a staff
C
Dm
F
and in the other a gun.
Am
Dm
C
F
The gun was like a piece in the sun.
Dm
F
Am
Dm
That night, the moon stretched
Dm
F
Dm
And the county wolf called as
Bb
Dm
Am
if to explain to his son,
Dm
F
Dm
G
C
Dm
oh, the way the West was won.
C
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