Chords for Steve Tilston & Maggie Boyle 'The Slip Jigs & Reels' VRC0132

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_ _ _ _ _ _ He was a burly young man in his [A] grandfather's court,
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Sewn into the mighty _ Chichén Lénés.
Goodbye to the family, goodbye [A] to the show,
[E] So I taste good fortune, you'll see. _ _
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A [F#m] boat on the old [E] route, a toss like [A] a call,
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Then one fine morning they sighted New York,
And he stood on the gantline, he breathed [A] in the air,
[E] And all the mountain men began to come forward and sing,
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And he'd like the ladies to know, _ _
[E] Since _ _ down on the dance floor,
Not all the nice and [A] stinging old [C#m] _ [F#m] youths,
_ _ [E] But he took most delight in the stiff Chichén Lénés.
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There's talk of a pistol, some [A] say a knife,
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But all I read now was somebody's wife,
Some [A] kind of [E] commotion, a terrible [A] fight.
[E] He left for [A] Málaga, _ [E] _ _ _ _
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a train to St.
Louis,
Just one jump [A] ahead, [E] they slept while I opened the [D#] sixth.
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And he drew to the mountains and [A] the green fields of Rome,
[E] Crossing the [A] plains [E] where the buffalo _ roam. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
And he'd like the ladies to rise and fall,
Of high-heeled thin dresses down on the dance floor,
Not _ all the nice and stinging [A]
old _ [C#m] _ [F#m] _ youths,
[E] But he took most delight in the stiff Chichén _ Lénés. _ _ _ _ _ _
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[B] Poor bad [A] reputations, [B] a hard [A] thing to bear,
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Mothers fought scorn and young children they stared,
But he found consolation in flash [A] company,
Life ain't so [E] bad when you've got a long head. _
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Oh, they called him the Kid by twenty [A]-one,
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All that he knew was the power of a gun,
And by twenty [F#m]-three [E] he'd shot five [A] men down,
God in [E] his way as he rambled [A] on.
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And he'd like the ladies to rise and [B] fall,
[E] Of high-heeled thin dresses down on the dance floor,
Not all the nice and [A] stinging old _ [C#m] _ _ [F#m] _ _ youths,
[E] But he took most delight in the stiff Chichén Lénés.
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_ _ _ _ _ _ There's bones on the desert and buggers [A] that fly,
[E] In the highest of circles just wishing they'd die,
Early matters of cruelty, it must [A] be said,
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A landlord will pick your blues. _ _ _ _
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_ _ [A] _ [E] _ _ _ It was wild masquerados I heard people [A] say,
[E] In the deadly stango schneros,
_ And a young buck was taken, dressed in a [A] coat,
_ [E]
Inside the lining of ten _ shillings. _
_ _ _ _ _ _ And he'd like the ladies to rise and fall,
Of high-heeled thin dresses down on the dance floor,
Not all the nice and [A] stinging old _ _
_ [F#m] _ youths,
_ [E] _ But he took most delight in the stiff Chichén Lénés. _
In the stiff Chichén Lénés. _ _ _
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_ _ _ [D#m] _ _ _ [A#] _ _