Alabama Clay

C      G      Am
F      C      G

       C       G           Am
First time he saw the ground get busted
        F             C               G
He was ten and it was nineteen fifty-two
     C        G          Am
His daddy worked hard from sun up to sun down
         F     C              G
and the going got tuff 'hind them old grey mules
    C       G          Am
The farm grew to be a money maker
        F                C              G
and the house he lived in grew up room by room
               C         G               Am
The boy worked hard but soon got tired of farming
              F              G                      C
So he slipped away one night beneath the harvest moon.

              F               C
His neck was red as Alabama clay
               Am                G
but the cities call pulled him away
                   F                  C
He's got a factory job and runs a big machine
                  G                      C
He don't miss the farm or the fields of green.

               C      G              Am
Now the cities just a prison without fences.
      F        C                G
His job is just a routine he can't stand
       C      G              Am
and at night he dreams of wide open spaces
       F               C               G
fresh dirt beneath his toes and on his hands.
       C            G              Am
Then one day a picture came inside a letter
     F                 C            G
of a young girl with a baby in her arms.
        C        G                         Am
And the words she wrote would change his life forever.
         F               G                 C
So he went to raise his family on their farm.

             F            C
His neck is red as Alabama Clay
               Am                 G
Now he's going home this time to stay
                    F                  C
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
                G                            C
and the tractor rolls through the fields of green.
             F            C
His neck is red as Alabama Clay
               Am                 G
Now he's going home this time to stay
                    F                  C
Where the roots run deep on the family tree
                G                            C
and the tractor rolls through the fields of green.

             F                     C
His neck is red......as Alabama clay.

Cifra adaptada de fontes públicas. Direitos da composição pertencem aos autores e gravadoras originais. Esta página é parte do projeto educacional Mania de Músico.