Fireball Rolled A Seven Chords by Dave Dudley
Tempo:
100.35 bpm
Chords used:
F
E
C
Bb
A
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[E] Somewhere in South Carolina, [Dbm] near a dirt track, or a shrine, [A] he erected to the memory [B] of a little old [Bm] friend of mine.
[E] A natural born dirt dodger, [Dbm] car racing was his game.
[A] He rolled old number seven.
[B] Fireball [Bm] was his name.
[E]
For the makings of a honker, he [Dbm] rolled a thalen wire.
[A] He tied his hopes together and [B] just set them tracks on fire.
[E] Three hundred fifty on the hood, [Dbm] and a big seven on each door.
[A] In his heart, a will to win, [B] and his right foot on [E] the floor.
[A] This, my fellow, was a simple one.
[E] Stand on it and turn left.
[B] If someone's got a beat you, [E] make him run.
[A] All he knew was go or blow, [E] and always lead the rest.
[B] Fireball rolled the seven, [E] and he won.
[F] He took the world's six hundred, [Dm] and the old Atlanta five.
[Bb] Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, [C] Daytona, what a ride.
[F] The hot dogs laid it on him.
[Dm] Red draft, charred and swept.
[Bb] But Fireball rolled the seven.
[C] The kind that's hard to get.
[F]
He had to pull at Darlington.
[Dm] He wanted off the race.
And [Bb] he ran away at Charlotte.
Ooh, [C] six hundred miles to hell.
[F] A slingshot sewed up Petty.
He [Dm] was out front real fast.
[Bb] A checkered flag was in the bag.
[C] Nobody would get [F] past.
He was flat out in that backseat.
Only [Dm] three laps from the start, when [Bb] he saw a yellow bumper cross [C] up and come apart.
[F] A rookie and a shaker, running [Dm] scared, locked it off.
[Bb] A hush fell on that crowd.
[C] Number seven took the [F] wall.
[Bb] His old skidlet hangs in the hall.
[F] The little charters gone.
[C] To save a friend, he laid it on [F] the line.
[Bb] His old poncho is rustin' down, [F] but his memory still lives on.
[C] Fireball rolled [E] the seven [F] every time.
[C] Fireball rolled the seven [F] every time.
[C] [F] [N]
[E] A natural born dirt dodger, [Dbm] car racing was his game.
[A] He rolled old number seven.
[B] Fireball [Bm] was his name.
[E]
For the makings of a honker, he [Dbm] rolled a thalen wire.
[A] He tied his hopes together and [B] just set them tracks on fire.
[E] Three hundred fifty on the hood, [Dbm] and a big seven on each door.
[A] In his heart, a will to win, [B] and his right foot on [E] the floor.
[A] This, my fellow, was a simple one.
[E] Stand on it and turn left.
[B] If someone's got a beat you, [E] make him run.
[A] All he knew was go or blow, [E] and always lead the rest.
[B] Fireball rolled the seven, [E] and he won.
[F] He took the world's six hundred, [Dm] and the old Atlanta five.
[Bb] Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, [C] Daytona, what a ride.
[F] The hot dogs laid it on him.
[Dm] Red draft, charred and swept.
[Bb] But Fireball rolled the seven.
[C] The kind that's hard to get.
[F]
He had to pull at Darlington.
[Dm] He wanted off the race.
And [Bb] he ran away at Charlotte.
Ooh, [C] six hundred miles to hell.
[F] A slingshot sewed up Petty.
He [Dm] was out front real fast.
[Bb] A checkered flag was in the bag.
[C] Nobody would get [F] past.
He was flat out in that backseat.
Only [Dm] three laps from the start, when [Bb] he saw a yellow bumper cross [C] up and come apart.
[F] A rookie and a shaker, running [Dm] scared, locked it off.
[Bb] A hush fell on that crowd.
[C] Number seven took the [F] wall.
[Bb] His old skidlet hangs in the hall.
[F] The little charters gone.
[C] To save a friend, he laid it on [F] the line.
[Bb] His old poncho is rustin' down, [F] but his memory still lives on.
[C] Fireball rolled [E] the seven [F] every time.
[C] Fireball rolled the seven [F] every time.
[C] [F] [N]
Key:
F
E
C
Bb
A
F
E
C
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [E] Somewhere in South Carolina, [Dbm] near a dirt track, or a shrine, [A] he erected to the memory [B] of a little old [Bm] friend of mine.
[E] A natural born dirt dodger, [Dbm] car racing was his game.
[A] He rolled old number seven.
[B] Fireball [Bm] was his name.
_ [E]
For the makings of a honker, he [Dbm] rolled a thalen wire.
[A] He tied his hopes together and [B] just set them tracks on fire.
[E] Three hundred fifty on the hood, [Dbm] and a big seven on each door. _
[A] In his heart, a will to win, [B] and his right foot on [E] the floor. _
_ [A] This, my fellow, was a simple one.
[E] Stand on it and turn left.
[B] If someone's got a beat you, [E] make him run.
_ _ [A] All he knew was go or blow, [E] and always lead the rest.
[B] Fireball rolled the seven, [E] and he won.
_ _ [F] _ _ _ He took the world's six hundred, [Dm] and the old Atlanta five.
[Bb] Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, [C] Daytona, what a ride.
[F] The hot dogs laid it on him.
[Dm] Red draft, charred and swept.
[Bb] But Fireball rolled the seven.
[C] The kind that's hard to get.
[F] _ _ _
He had to pull at Darlington.
[Dm] He wanted off the race.
And [Bb] he ran away at Charlotte.
Ooh, [C] six hundred miles to hell.
[F] A slingshot sewed up Petty.
He [Dm] was out front real fast.
[Bb] A checkered flag was in the bag.
[C] Nobody would get [F] past. _
He was flat out in that backseat.
Only [Dm] three laps from the start, when [Bb] he saw a yellow bumper cross [C] up and come apart.
[F] A rookie and a shaker, running [Dm] scared, locked it off.
[Bb] A hush fell on that crowd.
[C] Number seven took the [F] wall.
_ _ [Bb] His old skidlet hangs in the hall.
[F] The little charters gone.
[C] To save a friend, he laid it on [F] the line.
_ _ [Bb] His old poncho is rustin' down, [F] but his memory still lives on.
[C] Fireball rolled [E] the seven [F] every time.
_ _ [C] Fireball rolled the seven [F] every time.
_ _ _ _ [C] _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [E] Somewhere in South Carolina, [Dbm] near a dirt track, or a shrine, [A] he erected to the memory [B] of a little old [Bm] friend of mine.
[E] A natural born dirt dodger, [Dbm] car racing was his game.
[A] He rolled old number seven.
[B] Fireball [Bm] was his name.
_ [E]
For the makings of a honker, he [Dbm] rolled a thalen wire.
[A] He tied his hopes together and [B] just set them tracks on fire.
[E] Three hundred fifty on the hood, [Dbm] and a big seven on each door. _
[A] In his heart, a will to win, [B] and his right foot on [E] the floor. _
_ [A] This, my fellow, was a simple one.
[E] Stand on it and turn left.
[B] If someone's got a beat you, [E] make him run.
_ _ [A] All he knew was go or blow, [E] and always lead the rest.
[B] Fireball rolled the seven, [E] and he won.
_ _ [F] _ _ _ He took the world's six hundred, [Dm] and the old Atlanta five.
[Bb] Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, [C] Daytona, what a ride.
[F] The hot dogs laid it on him.
[Dm] Red draft, charred and swept.
[Bb] But Fireball rolled the seven.
[C] The kind that's hard to get.
[F] _ _ _
He had to pull at Darlington.
[Dm] He wanted off the race.
And [Bb] he ran away at Charlotte.
Ooh, [C] six hundred miles to hell.
[F] A slingshot sewed up Petty.
He [Dm] was out front real fast.
[Bb] A checkered flag was in the bag.
[C] Nobody would get [F] past. _
He was flat out in that backseat.
Only [Dm] three laps from the start, when [Bb] he saw a yellow bumper cross [C] up and come apart.
[F] A rookie and a shaker, running [Dm] scared, locked it off.
[Bb] A hush fell on that crowd.
[C] Number seven took the [F] wall.
_ _ [Bb] His old skidlet hangs in the hall.
[F] The little charters gone.
[C] To save a friend, he laid it on [F] the line.
_ _ [Bb] His old poncho is rustin' down, [F] but his memory still lives on.
[C] Fireball rolled [E] the seven [F] every time.
_ _ [C] Fireball rolled the seven [F] every time.
_ _ _ _ [C] _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
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