Days of 49 Bob Dylan
[Intro]
[Am]
[Verse 1]
[Am]I'm old Tom Moore from the [G]bummer's shore in the [Am]good old [G]golden [Am]days
[Am]They call me a bummer and a [G]ginsot too, but [Am]what cares [G]I for p[Am]raise?
I [C]wander around from [Am]town to town just [C]like a roving [Am]sign
And [C]all the people say, "There [Am]goes Tom Moore, in the [G]days of '49"[Am]
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine for the [F]days of old
When we [C]dug up the gold, in the [Am]days of '49.
[Verse 2]
[Am]My comrades they all [G]loved me well, a [Am]jolly [G]saucy [Am]crew
[Am]A few hard cases I [G]will recall though [Am]they all were [G]brave and [Am]true
What[C]ever the pinch they [Am]never would flinch, they [C]never would fret or [Am]whine
Like [C]good old bricks they [Am]stood the kicks in the [G]days of '49[Am]
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine for the [F]days of old
When we [C]dug up the gold, in the [Am]days of '49.
[Verse 3]
[Am]There was New York Jake, the [G]butcher's boy, he was [Am]always [G]getting [Am]tight
[Am]And every time that he'd [G]get full he was [Am]spoiling [G]for a [Am]fight
But [C]Jake rampaged a[Am]gainst a knife in the [C]hands of old Bob [Am]Stein
And [C]over Jake they [Am]held a wake in the [G]days of '49[Am]
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine for the [F]days of old
When we [C]dug up the gold, in the [Am]days of '49.
[Verse 4]
[Am]There was Poker Bill, [G]one of the boys who was [Am]always [G]in a [Am]game
[Am]Whether he lost or [G]whether he won, to [Am]him it was [G]always the [Am]same
He would [C]ante up and [Am]draw his cards and he [C]would you go a hatfull [Am]blind
In the [C]game with death Bill [Am]lost his breath, in the [G]days of '49[Am] 'oh my goodness'
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
In the [F]day'times I re[C]pine in the [F]days of old
In the [C]days of gold, those where [Am]days of '49.
[Verse 5]
[Am]There was Ragshag Bill from [G]Buffalo, I [Am]never [G]will [Am]forget
[Am]He would roar all day and he'd [G]roar all night and I [Am]guess he's [G]roaring [Am]yet
One [C]day he fell in a [Am]prospect hole, in a [C]roaring bad de[Am]sign
And [C]in that hole he [Am]roared out his soul, in the [G]days of '49[Am]
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine for the [F]days of old
When we [C]dug up the gold, in the [Am]days of '49.
[Verse 6]
[Am]Of the comrades all that [G]I've had, there's [Am]none that's [G]left to [Am]boast
[Am]And I'm left alone in my [G]misery like [Am]some poor [G]wandering [Am]ghost
And I [C]pass by from [Am]town to town, they [C]call me the rambling [Am]sign
"There [C]goes Tom Moore, a [Am]bummer shore in the [G]days of '49[Am] "
In the [F]days of old, in the [C]days of gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine for the [F]days of old
When we [C]dug up the gold, in the [Am]days of '49.
And the [F]days of old when we [C]dug up the gold
How [F]oft'times I re[C]pine In the [F]days of old
In the [C]days of gold in the [Am]days of '49. wooh!
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