North Country Blues Bob Dylan
Capo 3rd Fret
Intro
[Am]
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Fill at the end of each verse played over the Am
chord
[Am]
e--------------| B--------------| G--------------| D-0h2-0h2------| A---------0--0-| E--------------|
Intro
[Am]Come gather 'round friends and I'll [G]tell you a tale
Of when the [Am]red iron-[G]ore pits ran a-[Am]plenty
But the cardboard-filled windows and [G]old men on the benches
Tell you [Am]now that the [G]whole town is [Am]empty
[Am]In the north end of town my own[G] children are grown
But[Am] I was ra[G]ised on the ot[Am]her
In the wee hours of youth my [G]mother took sick
And [Am]I was brought [G]up by my b[Am]rother
[Am]All iron ore poured as the [G]years passed the door
The[Am] drag lines and [G]shovels they was a-[Am]humming
'Till one day my brother [G]failed to come home
The [Am]same as my [G]father bef[Am]ore him
[Am]With, a long winter's wait from the [G]window I watched
My [Am]friends they [G]couldn't have been [Am]kinder
And my schooling was cut as I [G]quit in the spring
To [Am]marry John [G]Thomas, a [Am]miner
[Am]the years passed again, and the [G]giving was good
With the [Am]lunch bucket [G]filled every [Am]season
What with three babies born, the [G]work was cut down
To a [Am]half a day's [G]shift with no [Am]reason
[Am]Then the shaft was soon shut, and [G]more work was cut
And the [Am]fire in the [G]air, it felt [Am]frozen
'Till a man come to speak, and he s[G]aid in one week
That [Am]number el[G]even was [Am]closing
[Am]They say in the East, they are [G]paying too high
They [Am]say that your [G]ore ain't worth [Am]digging
That it's much cheaper down in the [G]South American towns
Where the [Am]miners work [G]almost for [Am]nothing
[Am]So the mining gates locked, and the [G]red iron rotted
And the [Am]room smelled [G]heavy from [Am]drinking
And the sad, silent song made the [G]hour twice as long
As I [Am]waited for the [G]sun to go [Am]sinking
[Am]I lived by the window as he [G]talked to himself
This [Am]silence of [G]tongues it was [Am]building
'Till one morning's wake, the [G]bed it was bare
And [Am]I was left a[G]lone with three [Am]children
[Am]The summer is gone, the [G]ground's turning cold
The [Am]stores one by [G]one they're a [Am]folding
My children will go as [G]soon as they grow
Well, there [Am]ain't nothing [G]here now to [Am]hold them
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