Chords for IIIrd Tyme Out - Gentle On My Mind
Tempo:
59.325 bpm
Chords used:
B
E
F#m
A
G#m
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[F#m] [B] [F#m] [B] [E]
It's knowing that [G#m] the door is [E] always open and your path is [F#m] straight along.
That makes me tend [B] to leave my sleeping [A] bag rolled up [B] and stashed behind [E] the couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
and the ink stains that have dried upon [F#m] some [A] lines.
That keeps you in the back roads [E] by the rivers of [B] my memory
and keeps you every gentle [E] moment of my life.
[G#m]
[C#m] [B] [F#m] [A]
[B] [E]
[C#m] [E] [F#m]
[B] [E]
[D] [E] It's not clinging to the rocks [A] and ivy planted [B] on the columns [F#m] now that binds me.
Or something [B] that somebody [E] said because they [B] thought we fit [E] together walking.
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursed or forgiven
when I walk along some railroad [F#m] track and find.
That you're moving [B] on the back roads [E] by the rivers [B] of my memory
[F#m] and for hours [B] you just get [E] along the line.
[G#m]
[E] [F#m] [E]
[B] [E]
[F#m]
[B] [E]
Though the weekends and the clotheslines and the junkyards and the highways come [F#m] between us
and [B] some [F#m] other woman crying to her [B] for the clothes she turned and was [E] gone.
I [G#m] still might run in [F#m] silence, tears of [G#m] joy might stain my [C#m] face
and the [B] summer sun might [F#m] burn me till I'm blind.
But not [B] to where I cannot [A] see you [B] walking on the back roads
by the rivers flowing gentle [E] on my mind.
I'd fit my cup of soup back from the gurgling, cracking [F#m] cauldron in some train yard.
I'd beard a rough noon [A] coal pile in a [B] dirty hat full of [E] clothes.
[F#m] [E] Moved cup's hands round [C#m] the tin can I pretend to hold you [B] to my breast.
[F#m] That you're waving from [A] the back roads [B] by the rivers of my memory
and every smile and every gentle old [E] smile.
[F#m] [B] [E]
It's knowing that [G#m] the door is [E] always open and your path is [F#m] straight along.
That makes me tend [B] to leave my sleeping [A] bag rolled up [B] and stashed behind [E] the couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
and the ink stains that have dried upon [F#m] some [A] lines.
That keeps you in the back roads [E] by the rivers of [B] my memory
and keeps you every gentle [E] moment of my life.
[G#m]
[C#m] [B] [F#m] [A]
[B] [E]
[C#m] [E] [F#m]
[B] [E]
[D] [E] It's not clinging to the rocks [A] and ivy planted [B] on the columns [F#m] now that binds me.
Or something [B] that somebody [E] said because they [B] thought we fit [E] together walking.
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursed or forgiven
when I walk along some railroad [F#m] track and find.
That you're moving [B] on the back roads [E] by the rivers [B] of my memory
[F#m] and for hours [B] you just get [E] along the line.
[G#m]
[E] [F#m] [E]
[B] [E]
[F#m]
[B] [E]
Though the weekends and the clotheslines and the junkyards and the highways come [F#m] between us
and [B] some [F#m] other woman crying to her [B] for the clothes she turned and was [E] gone.
I [G#m] still might run in [F#m] silence, tears of [G#m] joy might stain my [C#m] face
and the [B] summer sun might [F#m] burn me till I'm blind.
But not [B] to where I cannot [A] see you [B] walking on the back roads
by the rivers flowing gentle [E] on my mind.
I'd fit my cup of soup back from the gurgling, cracking [F#m] cauldron in some train yard.
I'd beard a rough noon [A] coal pile in a [B] dirty hat full of [E] clothes.
[F#m] [E] Moved cup's hands round [C#m] the tin can I pretend to hold you [B] to my breast.
[F#m] That you're waving from [A] the back roads [B] by the rivers of my memory
and every smile and every gentle old [E] smile.
[F#m] [B] [E]
Key:
B
E
F#m
A
G#m
B
E
F#m
[F#m] _ _ [B] _ _ [F#m] _ [B] _ [E] _ _
_ It's knowing that [G#m] the door is [E] always open and your path is [F#m] straight along. _
_ That makes me tend [B] to leave my sleeping [A] bag rolled up [B] and stashed behind [E] the couch. _
_ And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
and the ink stains that have dried upon [F#m] some [A] lines.
_ That keeps you in the back roads [E] by the rivers of [B] my memory
and keeps you every gentle [E] moment of my life.
_ _ _ [G#m] _
[C#m] _ [B] _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ [A] _
_ [B] _ [E] _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ [E] _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [B] _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ [D] [E] It's not clinging to the rocks [A] and ivy planted [B] on the columns [F#m] now that binds me.
_ Or something [B] that somebody [E] said because they [B] thought we fit [E] together walking. _
_ It's just knowing that the world will not be cursed or forgiven
when I walk along some railroad [F#m] track and find.
_ That you're moving [B] on the back roads [E] by the rivers [B] of my memory
[F#m] and for hours [B] you just get [E] along the line.
_ _ _ [G#m] _
_ [E] _ [F#m] _ _ _ _ _ [E] _
_ [B] _ [E] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [B] _ _ [E] _ _
Though the weekends and the clotheslines and the junkyards and the highways come [F#m] between us
and [B] some [F#m] other woman crying to her [B] for the clothes she turned and was [E] gone. _
I [G#m] still might run in [F#m] silence, tears of [G#m] joy might stain my [C#m] face
and the [B] summer sun might [F#m] burn me till I'm blind.
_ But not [B] to where I cannot [A] see you [B] walking on the back roads
by the rivers flowing gentle [E] on my mind.
_ I'd fit my cup of soup back from the gurgling, cracking [F#m] cauldron in some train yard.
_ I'd beard a rough noon [A] coal pile in a [B] dirty hat full of [E] clothes.
_ _ [F#m] [E] Moved cup's hands round [C#m] the tin can I pretend to hold you [B] to my breast.
[F#m] _ _ That you're waving from [A] the back roads [B] by the rivers of my memory
and every smile and every gentle old [E] smile.
_ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ [B] _ [E] _ _
_ It's knowing that [G#m] the door is [E] always open and your path is [F#m] straight along. _
_ That makes me tend [B] to leave my sleeping [A] bag rolled up [B] and stashed behind [E] the couch. _
_ And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words and bonds
and the ink stains that have dried upon [F#m] some [A] lines.
_ That keeps you in the back roads [E] by the rivers of [B] my memory
and keeps you every gentle [E] moment of my life.
_ _ _ [G#m] _
[C#m] _ [B] _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ [A] _
_ [B] _ [E] _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#m] _ [E] _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [B] _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ [D] [E] It's not clinging to the rocks [A] and ivy planted [B] on the columns [F#m] now that binds me.
_ Or something [B] that somebody [E] said because they [B] thought we fit [E] together walking. _
_ It's just knowing that the world will not be cursed or forgiven
when I walk along some railroad [F#m] track and find.
_ That you're moving [B] on the back roads [E] by the rivers [B] of my memory
[F#m] and for hours [B] you just get [E] along the line.
_ _ _ [G#m] _
_ [E] _ [F#m] _ _ _ _ _ [E] _
_ [B] _ [E] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [B] _ _ [E] _ _
Though the weekends and the clotheslines and the junkyards and the highways come [F#m] between us
and [B] some [F#m] other woman crying to her [B] for the clothes she turned and was [E] gone. _
I [G#m] still might run in [F#m] silence, tears of [G#m] joy might stain my [C#m] face
and the [B] summer sun might [F#m] burn me till I'm blind.
_ But not [B] to where I cannot [A] see you [B] walking on the back roads
by the rivers flowing gentle [E] on my mind.
_ I'd fit my cup of soup back from the gurgling, cracking [F#m] cauldron in some train yard.
_ I'd beard a rough noon [A] coal pile in a [B] dirty hat full of [E] clothes.
_ _ [F#m] [E] Moved cup's hands round [C#m] the tin can I pretend to hold you [B] to my breast.
[F#m] _ _ That you're waving from [A] the back roads [B] by the rivers of my memory
and every smile and every gentle old [E] smile.
_ _ [F#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ [B] _ [E] _ _