Letter To Madeline Chords by Ian Noe

_ _ Looked like a [Fm] hundred _ guns held [Eb] on me, _ [Bbm] hunkered by the shed of [Db] Detroit generals and [Fm] company.
_ Calling, [Eb] boy, come out, we have [Db] you jailed.
_ _ Beside the [Fm] buckshot door, I [Eb] stood still, wondering [Bbm] how the hell the bastards [Db] found me
in [Fm] those hills and clinging to [Eb] a letter that I wished [Db] I'd mailed.
_ _ _ _ Oh, [Fm] rest easy, matter [Eb] of fact, I'm bringing [Bbm] down the bank across [Db] this flooded county [Fm] line.
And when I [Eb] get home, we'll have a grand [Db] old time.
_ _ But don't you shed [Fm] no tears or be [Eb] surprised if you [Bbm] get the word that [Db] your wild man's up [Fm] and died.
Set me [Eb] up a stone on that high [Db] hillside. _ _ _ _ _ _
[Fm] _ _ _ _ [Eb] _ _ _ _
[Db] _ _ _ _ _ And in the pouring [Fm] snow, sad [Eb] but swift, I headed [Bbm] down the highway,
[Db] hoping that the burden of my [Fm] blues would lift.
And praying [Eb] that the whiskey would keep [Db] me brave.
_ _ _ Oh, but I [Fm] got caught in [Eb] the cold, [Bbm] looking like a hobo without [Db] no mercy from [Fm] the road.
And feeling [Eb] like a dead man without [Db] a grave.
_ _ _ _ Oh, [Fm] rest easy, matter [Eb] of fact, I'm bringing [Bbm] down the bank across [Db] this flooded [Fm] county line.
And when [Eb] I get home, we'll have a [Db] grand old time.
_ _ But don't you shed [Fm] no tears or [Eb] be surprised [F]
if you get [Bbm] the word that your [Db] wild man's [Bb] up [Fm] and died.
Set me up a stone on that [Db] high hillside.
_ _ _ Oh, my, oh, my.
_ _ [Eb] _ _ _ _
[Bbm] _ _ _ _ [Db] _ _ _ _
[Fm] _ _ _ _ [Eb] _ _ _ _
[Db] _ _ _ _ _ I was bloodied up [Fm] and chained, my legs [Eb] pinned down.
I woke [Bbm] to find my fate in the [Db] hands of four men gathered [Fm] around.
_ [Eb] Cursing for the bad they knew [Db] I'd hit.
_ _ And the more they stomped [Fm] and moaned, the more [Eb] I prayed.
Feeling [Bbm] every spark flying [Db] off of that fire and the [Fm] rusted blade.
So better [Eb] think it through, this is your last [Db] chance, kid.
_ _ _ _ Oh, [Fm] rest easy, matter [Eb] of life, I'm bringing [Bbm] down the bank _ [Db] across this flooded county [Fm] line.
And when I [Eb] get home, we'll have a grand [Db] old time.
_ _ _ But don't you shed [Fm] no tears or be [Eb] surprised if you [Bbm] get the word that [Db] your wild man's up [Fm] and died.
Set me up [Eb] a stone on that high [Db] hillside. _ _ _ _ _ _
[Fm] _ _ _ _ [Eb] _ _ [C] _ _
[Bbm] _ _ _ [Db] _ _ _ _ [Fm] _
_ _ _ [Eb] _ _ [F] _ _ [Db] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _