The Poor Ditching Boy

          A
Was there ever a winter so cold and so sad
                            D
With the river too weary to flood
    A
The stormy wind cut through to my skin
    D       E             A     D
But she cut through to my blood

      A
I was looking for trouble to tangle my line
                               D
But trouble come a-looking for me
  A
I knew I was standing on treacherous ground
          D           E           A
But I was sinking too fast to run free

         D    Bm   A    E
With her scheming, idle ways
    D       Bm    A
She left me poor enough
A
The storming wind cut through to my skin
    D       E             A  Bm  E
But she cut through to me blood....

A      D    A
A      D  E  A
D  Bm  A  E  D  Bm  A
A      D  E  A

A
Now I would not be asking, I would not be seen
                                D
Either begging on a mountain or hill
         A
'Til I’m ready and I’m blind, with my arms tied behind
         D         E          A    D
But I’ve neither a mind nor a will

         A
Oh, it’s bitter the need of the poor ditching boy
                                   D
For he’ll always believe what they say
         A
But they tell him it’s hard to be honest and true
        D            E           A
Does he mind that he doesn’t get paid?

         D    Bm   A    E
With her scheming, idle ways
    D       Bm    A
She left me poor enough
A
The storming wind cut through to my skin
    D       E             A
But she cut through to me blood

         D    Bm   A    E
With her scheming, idle ways
    D       Bm    A
She left me poor enough
A
The storming wind cut through to my skin
    D       E             D   E   A
But she cut through to me blood.....

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