Coyote Chords by Joni Mitchell
Tempo:
82.925 bpm
Chords used:
G
C
Eb
F
D
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[C] [G]
[Eb] No regrets, Coyote.
[D] We just come from such different sets of [C] circumstance.
I'm a bonehead in the studios [G] in Europe.
Early on your [F] ranch, you'll be brushing out a broodmare's tail while the sun is ascending.
[C] And I'll just be getting home with my [Eb] real burial, just home on Britain [G] Bay.
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes and the lips you can get.
And still feel so [F] alone and still feel related.
Stations in Sunree, now you're [C] not a hit and run driver, [Dm] no, no.
Racing your [D] way, you just picked up [G] a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.
[Eb] Saw a farmhouse [D] burning down.
In the middle of nowhere, in the middle [C] of the night, we roll right [G] past that tragedy.
Though it turned into some [F] roadhouse lights where a local band was playing.
Locals were up kicking and [C] shaking on the floor.
[A] The next thing I [Eb] know, that coyote's at my [G] door.
He pins me in a corner and he won't take no.
Rags me out on the dance floor and we're dancing close and slow.
[F] Now he's got a woman at home.
He's got another woman down the hall.
He seems to want [C] me anyway.
Why'd you have to get so [Eb] drunk and leave me on that way?
[G] You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.
[C]
[Eb] I looked a coyote right in the [G] face.
On the road to [D] Balgenie near my [C] old hometown.
He went [G] running through the whiskerweed.
Chasing some prize [F] down and a hawk was playing with him.
He was jumping straight up and making [G] passes.
In the same eyes just [Eb] like yours, under your [D] dark glasses.
Privately probing the public [C] rooms, peeking through [G] keyholes and number doors.
Where the players lick [F] their wounds and take their temporary lovers.
And their pills and [C] powders to get them through [G] this passion play.
No [Dm] regrets [Eb] coyote, I just get off [D] a boat race.
You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines [C] on the freeway.
[Eb] Coyote's in the coffee [G] shop.
He's staring a hole in his scrambled [C] legs.
He picks up my scent on [G] his fingers while he's watching the [F] waitress's legs.
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy.
From Appaloosas and eagles [C] and tides.
Air [Eb]-conditioned cubicles and the [G] carbon-ribboned lights.
I'm spilling it out so clear.
[C] Either he's gonna have [G] to stand and fight or take off out of here.
[F] I tried to run away myself.
To run away and wrestle with my [C]
ego.
[Eb] With this flame.
[G] You put her in this Eskimo.
In this hitcher.
In this prisoner.
Of the fine white lines.
Of the white lines [C] on the [G] freeway.
[Eb] [G]
[C] [G] [C]
[G]
[C] [G]
[N]
[Eb] No regrets, Coyote.
[D] We just come from such different sets of [C] circumstance.
I'm a bonehead in the studios [G] in Europe.
Early on your [F] ranch, you'll be brushing out a broodmare's tail while the sun is ascending.
[C] And I'll just be getting home with my [Eb] real burial, just home on Britain [G] Bay.
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes and the lips you can get.
And still feel so [F] alone and still feel related.
Stations in Sunree, now you're [C] not a hit and run driver, [Dm] no, no.
Racing your [D] way, you just picked up [G] a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.
[Eb] Saw a farmhouse [D] burning down.
In the middle of nowhere, in the middle [C] of the night, we roll right [G] past that tragedy.
Though it turned into some [F] roadhouse lights where a local band was playing.
Locals were up kicking and [C] shaking on the floor.
[A] The next thing I [Eb] know, that coyote's at my [G] door.
He pins me in a corner and he won't take no.
Rags me out on the dance floor and we're dancing close and slow.
[F] Now he's got a woman at home.
He's got another woman down the hall.
He seems to want [C] me anyway.
Why'd you have to get so [Eb] drunk and leave me on that way?
[G] You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.
[C]
[Eb] I looked a coyote right in the [G] face.
On the road to [D] Balgenie near my [C] old hometown.
He went [G] running through the whiskerweed.
Chasing some prize [F] down and a hawk was playing with him.
He was jumping straight up and making [G] passes.
In the same eyes just [Eb] like yours, under your [D] dark glasses.
Privately probing the public [C] rooms, peeking through [G] keyholes and number doors.
Where the players lick [F] their wounds and take their temporary lovers.
And their pills and [C] powders to get them through [G] this passion play.
No [Dm] regrets [Eb] coyote, I just get off [D] a boat race.
You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines [C] on the freeway.
[Eb] Coyote's in the coffee [G] shop.
He's staring a hole in his scrambled [C] legs.
He picks up my scent on [G] his fingers while he's watching the [F] waitress's legs.
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy.
From Appaloosas and eagles [C] and tides.
Air [Eb]-conditioned cubicles and the [G] carbon-ribboned lights.
I'm spilling it out so clear.
[C] Either he's gonna have [G] to stand and fight or take off out of here.
[F] I tried to run away myself.
To run away and wrestle with my [C]
ego.
[Eb] With this flame.
[G] You put her in this Eskimo.
In this hitcher.
In this prisoner.
Of the fine white lines.
Of the white lines [C] on the [G] freeway.
[Eb] [G]
[C] [G] [C]
[G]
[C] [G]
[N]
Key:
G
C
Eb
F
D
G
C
Eb
_ _ _ [C] _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Eb] No regrets, Coyote.
[D] We just come from such different sets of [C] circumstance.
I'm a bonehead in the studios [G] in Europe.
Early on your [F] ranch, you'll be brushing out a broodmare's tail while the sun is ascending.
[C] And I'll just be getting home with my [Eb] real burial, just home on Britain [G] Bay.
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes and the lips you can get.
And still feel so [F] alone and still feel related.
Stations in Sunree, now you're [C] not a hit and run driver, [Dm] no, no.
Racing your [D] way, you just picked up [G] a hitcher.
_ Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [Eb] Saw a farmhouse [D] burning down.
In the middle of nowhere, in the middle [C] of the night, we roll right [G] past that tragedy.
Though it turned into some [F] roadhouse lights where a local band was playing.
Locals were up kicking and [C] shaking on the floor.
[A] The next thing I [Eb] know, that coyote's at my [G] door.
He pins me in a corner and he won't take no.
Rags me out on the dance floor and we're dancing close and slow.
[F] Now he's got a woman at home.
He's got another woman down the hall.
He seems to want [C] me anyway.
Why'd you have to get so [Eb] drunk and leave me on that way?
[G] You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway. _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Eb] I looked a coyote right in the [G] face.
On the road to [D] Balgenie near my [C] old hometown.
He went [G] running through the whiskerweed.
Chasing some prize [F] down and a hawk was playing with him.
He was jumping straight up and making [G] passes.
In the same eyes just [Eb] like yours, under your [D] dark glasses.
Privately probing the public [C] rooms, peeking through [G] keyholes and number doors.
Where the players lick [F] their wounds and take their temporary lovers.
And their pills and [C] powders to get them through [G] this passion play.
No [Dm] regrets [Eb] coyote, I just get off [D] a boat race.
You just picked up a hitcher. _
Prisoner of the white lines [C] on the freeway. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Eb] _ Coyote's in the coffee [G] shop.
He's staring a hole in his scrambled [C] legs.
He picks up my scent on [G] his fingers while he's watching the [F] waitress's legs.
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy.
From Appaloosas and eagles [C] and tides.
Air [Eb]-conditioned cubicles and the [G] carbon-ribboned lights.
I'm spilling it out so clear.
[C] Either he's gonna have [G] to stand and fight or take off out of here.
[F] I tried to run away myself.
To run away and wrestle with my [C]
ego.
_ [Eb] With this flame.
[G] You put her in this Eskimo.
In this hitcher.
In this prisoner.
_ Of the fine white lines.
Of the white lines [C] on the _ _ _ [G] freeway.
_ _ [Eb] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ [G] _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
[C] _ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Eb] No regrets, Coyote.
[D] We just come from such different sets of [C] circumstance.
I'm a bonehead in the studios [G] in Europe.
Early on your [F] ranch, you'll be brushing out a broodmare's tail while the sun is ascending.
[C] And I'll just be getting home with my [Eb] real burial, just home on Britain [G] Bay.
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes and the lips you can get.
And still feel so [F] alone and still feel related.
Stations in Sunree, now you're [C] not a hit and run driver, [Dm] no, no.
Racing your [D] way, you just picked up [G] a hitcher.
_ Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [Eb] Saw a farmhouse [D] burning down.
In the middle of nowhere, in the middle [C] of the night, we roll right [G] past that tragedy.
Though it turned into some [F] roadhouse lights where a local band was playing.
Locals were up kicking and [C] shaking on the floor.
[A] The next thing I [Eb] know, that coyote's at my [G] door.
He pins me in a corner and he won't take no.
Rags me out on the dance floor and we're dancing close and slow.
[F] Now he's got a woman at home.
He's got another woman down the hall.
He seems to want [C] me anyway.
Why'd you have to get so [Eb] drunk and leave me on that way?
[G] You just picked up a hitcher.
Prisoner of the white lines on the freeway. _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Eb] I looked a coyote right in the [G] face.
On the road to [D] Balgenie near my [C] old hometown.
He went [G] running through the whiskerweed.
Chasing some prize [F] down and a hawk was playing with him.
He was jumping straight up and making [G] passes.
In the same eyes just [Eb] like yours, under your [D] dark glasses.
Privately probing the public [C] rooms, peeking through [G] keyholes and number doors.
Where the players lick [F] their wounds and take their temporary lovers.
And their pills and [C] powders to get them through [G] this passion play.
No [Dm] regrets [Eb] coyote, I just get off [D] a boat race.
You just picked up a hitcher. _
Prisoner of the white lines [C] on the freeway. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Eb] _ Coyote's in the coffee [G] shop.
He's staring a hole in his scrambled [C] legs.
He picks up my scent on [G] his fingers while he's watching the [F] waitress's legs.
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy.
From Appaloosas and eagles [C] and tides.
Air [Eb]-conditioned cubicles and the [G] carbon-ribboned lights.
I'm spilling it out so clear.
[C] Either he's gonna have [G] to stand and fight or take off out of here.
[F] I tried to run away myself.
To run away and wrestle with my [C]
ego.
_ [Eb] With this flame.
[G] You put her in this Eskimo.
In this hitcher.
In this prisoner.
_ Of the fine white lines.
Of the white lines [C] on the _ _ _ [G] freeway.
_ _ [Eb] _ _ _ _ [G] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ [G] _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
[C] _ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _