| E | A |
| E | A | |
| I don't want to hear a | love song |
| F#m | D | A | |
| I got on this airplane just to | fly |
| E | |
| And I | know there's life below |
| But all that it can show me |
| A | |
| Is the prairie a | nd the sky |
| E | A | |
| And I don't want to hear a sad story |
| F#m | D | A | |
| Full of heartb | reak and desir | e |
| E | |
| The last | time I felt like this |
| A | |
| It was in the wilderness and the canyon was on fire |
| F#m | B | D | A | |
| And | I stood on the mountai | n in the night and | I watched it burn |
| E | A | |
| I watched it | burn, I watched it burn. |
| D | A | |
| I would rock my soul in t | he bosom of Abraham |
| E | A | |
| I would hold my life in his savi | ng grace. |
| D | A | |
| I would walk all the way from Bo | ulder to Birmingham |
| E | A | |
| If I thought I could see, I could se | e your face. |
| E | A | |
| Well you really got me th | is time |
| F#m | D | A | |
| And the | hardest part is | knowing I'll | survive. |
| E | |
| I have come to | listen for the sound |
| Of the trucks as they move down |
| A | |
| Out on | ninety five |
| F#m | B | |
| And | pretend that it's the o | cean |
| D | A | E | |
| coming down to wash me | clean, to wash me | clean |
| A | |
| Baby do you know what I | mean |
| D | A | |
| I would rock my soul in the bosom o | f Abraham |
| E | A | |
| I would hold my life in his savi | ng grace. |
| I would walk all the way from Boulder to Birmingham |
| If I thought I could see, I could see your face. |