Chords for David Bromberg - Dyin' Crap Shooter's Blues (with lyrics in comments)
Tempo:
63.4 bpm
Chords used:
Em
F#
B
G
Gm
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[Em]
Now little Jesse was a gambler night [B] and day.
He was crooked, tired, [Em] and dying.
He was a sinful boy of good nature, but he had no soul.
His heart was hot and cold as iron.
All [F#] the police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down.
The boy [Em] began to die today.
There [F#] was a bunch of gamblers gathered all around his bedside.
And here's the words that he had [Em] to say.
[Gm] Yes, I [B] ought to know how I [Em] want to go.
I want to go, Jesse.
I want eight crapshooters for my poor girl.
[B] And let them all be [Em] dressed in black.
I want nine men going to the graveyard.
[B] And only eight men [Em] coming back.
I [F#] want a gang of gamblers gathered around my carpentry
with a crooked car [Em] turning on my hearse.
[F#] Now don't try and tell me that anybody's ever
going to grieve after me.
[B] My life's been a doggone curse.
Send [Em] poker players out to the graveyard
[B] to dig my grave with the [Em] ace of spades.
I want 12 policemen in my funeral march
with the high sheriff playing blackjack leading a parade.
[F#] I want the judge and solicitor who
jailed me 14 times to put a pair [Em] of dice in my shoes.
[G] Let a deck of cards be my tombstone.
[B] I got the dying [Em] crapshooters blues.
Now I want 16 real good crapshooters and 16 bootleggers
[B] to sing me a song.
[Em] I want 16 buck riders gambling with a couple of bar of 10s
while I'm rolling around.
[F#] He wanted 22 women out of the Hilton Hotel
and 26 women off [Em] of Old South [F#] Bell.
He asked for 29 women out of North Atlanta
for little Jesse didn't pass out [Em] so well.
Oh, his head was aching.
His heart was jumping.
Little Jesse went down bouncing in a [F#] bumping.
Folks don't be standing around, Jesse cried.
[B] He wanted everyone to do the Charles and Waltz is dying.
[Em]
[F#] [Em]
[G] [Em]
One foot up, the toenail dragging.
He threw my buddy Jesse in the hood little [G] wagon.
Run him, mama, with that [G#m] cannibal's.
I got the dying [F#] crapshooters blues.
I'm [E] stepping out with the dying crapshooters blues.
[D] [G]
Now little Jesse was a gambler night [B] and day.
He was crooked, tired, [Em] and dying.
He was a sinful boy of good nature, but he had no soul.
His heart was hot and cold as iron.
All [F#] the police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down.
The boy [Em] began to die today.
There [F#] was a bunch of gamblers gathered all around his bedside.
And here's the words that he had [Em] to say.
[Gm] Yes, I [B] ought to know how I [Em] want to go.
I want to go, Jesse.
I want eight crapshooters for my poor girl.
[B] And let them all be [Em] dressed in black.
I want nine men going to the graveyard.
[B] And only eight men [Em] coming back.
I [F#] want a gang of gamblers gathered around my carpentry
with a crooked car [Em] turning on my hearse.
[F#] Now don't try and tell me that anybody's ever
going to grieve after me.
[B] My life's been a doggone curse.
Send [Em] poker players out to the graveyard
[B] to dig my grave with the [Em] ace of spades.
I want 12 policemen in my funeral march
with the high sheriff playing blackjack leading a parade.
[F#] I want the judge and solicitor who
jailed me 14 times to put a pair [Em] of dice in my shoes.
[G] Let a deck of cards be my tombstone.
[B] I got the dying [Em] crapshooters blues.
Now I want 16 real good crapshooters and 16 bootleggers
[B] to sing me a song.
[Em] I want 16 buck riders gambling with a couple of bar of 10s
while I'm rolling around.
[F#] He wanted 22 women out of the Hilton Hotel
and 26 women off [Em] of Old South [F#] Bell.
He asked for 29 women out of North Atlanta
for little Jesse didn't pass out [Em] so well.
Oh, his head was aching.
His heart was jumping.
Little Jesse went down bouncing in a [F#] bumping.
Folks don't be standing around, Jesse cried.
[B] He wanted everyone to do the Charles and Waltz is dying.
[Em]
[F#] [Em]
[G] [Em]
One foot up, the toenail dragging.
He threw my buddy Jesse in the hood little [G] wagon.
Run him, mama, with that [G#m] cannibal's.
I got the dying [F#] crapshooters blues.
I'm [E] stepping out with the dying crapshooters blues.
[D] [G]
Key:
Em
F#
B
G
Gm
Em
F#
B
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [Em]
Now little Jesse was a gambler night [B] and day.
He was crooked, tired, [Em] and dying.
He was a sinful boy of good nature, but he had no soul.
His heart was hot and cold as iron.
All [F#] the police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down.
The boy [Em] began to die today.
There [F#] was a bunch of gamblers gathered all around his bedside.
And here's the words that he had [Em] to say.
[Gm] Yes, I [B] ought to know how I [Em] want to go.
I want to go, Jesse.
I want eight crapshooters for my poor girl.
[B] And let them all be [Em] dressed in black.
I want nine men going to the graveyard.
[B] And only eight men [Em] coming back.
I [F#] want a gang of gamblers gathered around my carpentry
with a crooked car [Em] turning on my hearse.
[F#] Now don't try and tell me that anybody's ever
going to grieve after me.
[B] My life's been a doggone curse.
Send [Em] poker players out to the graveyard
[B] to dig my grave with the [Em] ace of spades.
I want 12 policemen in my funeral march
with the high sheriff playing blackjack leading a parade.
[F#] I want the judge and solicitor who
jailed me 14 times to put a pair [Em] of dice in my shoes.
[G] Let a deck of cards be my tombstone.
[B] I got the dying [Em] crapshooters blues. _ _ _ _ _
Now I want 16 real good crapshooters and 16 bootleggers
[B] to sing me a song.
[Em] I want 16 buck riders gambling with a couple of bar of 10s
while I'm rolling around.
[F#] He wanted 22 women out of the Hilton Hotel
and 26 women off [Em] of Old South [F#] Bell.
He asked for 29 women out of North Atlanta
for little Jesse didn't pass out [Em] so well.
Oh, his head was aching.
His heart was jumping.
Little Jesse went down bouncing in a [F#] bumping.
Folks don't be standing around, Jesse cried.
[B] He wanted everyone to do the Charles and Waltz is dying.
[Em] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _
_ [G] _ _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _
_ _ _ One foot up, the toenail dragging.
He threw my buddy Jesse in the hood little [G] wagon.
Run him, mama, with that [G#m] cannibal's.
I got the dying [F#] crapshooters blues.
I'm [E] stepping out with the dying crapshooters blues. _
_ [D] _ _ [G] _ _ _ _ _
Now little Jesse was a gambler night [B] and day.
He was crooked, tired, [Em] and dying.
He was a sinful boy of good nature, but he had no soul.
His heart was hot and cold as iron.
All [F#] the police walked up and shot my friend Jesse down.
The boy [Em] began to die today.
There [F#] was a bunch of gamblers gathered all around his bedside.
And here's the words that he had [Em] to say.
[Gm] Yes, I [B] ought to know how I [Em] want to go.
I want to go, Jesse.
I want eight crapshooters for my poor girl.
[B] And let them all be [Em] dressed in black.
I want nine men going to the graveyard.
[B] And only eight men [Em] coming back.
I [F#] want a gang of gamblers gathered around my carpentry
with a crooked car [Em] turning on my hearse.
[F#] Now don't try and tell me that anybody's ever
going to grieve after me.
[B] My life's been a doggone curse.
Send [Em] poker players out to the graveyard
[B] to dig my grave with the [Em] ace of spades.
I want 12 policemen in my funeral march
with the high sheriff playing blackjack leading a parade.
[F#] I want the judge and solicitor who
jailed me 14 times to put a pair [Em] of dice in my shoes.
[G] Let a deck of cards be my tombstone.
[B] I got the dying [Em] crapshooters blues. _ _ _ _ _
Now I want 16 real good crapshooters and 16 bootleggers
[B] to sing me a song.
[Em] I want 16 buck riders gambling with a couple of bar of 10s
while I'm rolling around.
[F#] He wanted 22 women out of the Hilton Hotel
and 26 women off [Em] of Old South [F#] Bell.
He asked for 29 women out of North Atlanta
for little Jesse didn't pass out [Em] so well.
Oh, his head was aching.
His heart was jumping.
Little Jesse went down bouncing in a [F#] bumping.
Folks don't be standing around, Jesse cried.
[B] He wanted everyone to do the Charles and Waltz is dying.
[Em] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _
_ [G] _ _ _ _ _ _ [Em] _
_ _ _ One foot up, the toenail dragging.
He threw my buddy Jesse in the hood little [G] wagon.
Run him, mama, with that [G#m] cannibal's.
I got the dying [F#] crapshooters blues.
I'm [E] stepping out with the dying crapshooters blues. _
_ [D] _ _ [G] _ _ _ _ _
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