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| A | E | F#m | E | D | E | A | E | D | E |
| Verse 1: |
| A | E | |
| Heading down south to the | land of the pines. |
| F#m | E | D | E | |
| I'm | thumbing my way | in the | North Caroline. |
| A | E | D | |
| Staring up the road, | pray to God I see | headlights. |
| E | A | E | |
| Oh, I made it | down the coast in | seventeen hours, |
| F#m | E | D | |
| Picking me a bouquet | of dog | wood flowers |
| E | A | |
| And I'm | hopin' for Raleigh, |
| E | D | |
| So | I can see my baby to | night. |
| Chorus: |
| E | A | E | |
| So | rock me momma like a | wagon wheel, |
| F#m | E | D | E | |
| Rock me momma | any | way you feel. |
| A | E | D | E | |
| He | y momma | rock me. |
| A | E | |
| Rock me momma like the | wind and the rain, |
| F#m | E | D | E | |
| Rock me momma | like a | south bound train. |
| A | E | D | E | |
| He | y momma | rock me. |
| Verse 2: |
| A | E | |
| Running from the cold | up in New England. |
| F#m | E | D | E | |
| I was | born to be a fiddler | in an | old time string band. |
| A | E | D | |
| My | baby plays a guitar, | I pick a banjo | now. |
| E | A | E | |
| Oh | north country winters keep | getting me, |
| F#m | E | D | |
| Now I lost my | money playing poker | so I | had to up and leave. |
| E | A | E | D | |
| But I | ain't turning back to | living that old life | no more. |
| Bridge: |
| A~ B~ |
| Walkin' to the south out of Roanoke, |
| F#m~ D~ |
| I caught a trucker out of Philly had a nice long toke. |
| A~ B~ |
| But he's heading west from the Cumberland gap, |
| D | |
| Johnson City, Tennessee. |
| E | A | E | |
| Now I | gotta get a move on | before the sun, |
| F#m | E | D | E | |
| I hear my | baby calling my | name and I | know that she's the only | one. |
| A | E | D | |
| And | If I die in Raleigh at | least I will die | free. |
| Outro: |
| A E F#m E D E A E F#m~ |