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Chicken Fried Zac Brown Band

W[G]ell I was raised up beneath the sh[D]ade of a georgia pi[C]ne and that's h[D]ome

you know

[G]Sweet tea, pecan p[D]ie and home made w[C]ine where the p[D]eaches grow

[G]And my house it's not m[D]uch to talk a[C]bout [D]

But it's [G]filled with love that's gr[D]own in southern g[C]round [D]

And a little bit of chicken [G]fried, cold beer on a [D]friday night

A pair of jeans that f[C]it just right and the radio [G]up [D]

I like to seen the su[G]n rise, see the love in my w[D]oman's eyes

Feel the touch of a pre[C]cious child, and know a mother's [G]love [D]

Well its [G]funny how it`s the l[D]ittle things in li[C]fe that me[D]an the most

Not [G]where you live or [D]what you drive or the [C]price tag on your cloth[D]es

There`s no d[G]ollar sign on a p[D]iece of mind th[C]is I`ve come to kn[D]ow

So if y[G]ou agree have a d[D]rink with me, raise you g[C]lasses for a t[D]oast

To a little bit of chicken f[G]ried , cold beer on a [D]friday night

A pair of jeans that f[C]it just right and the radio [G]up [D]

I like to seen the su[G]n rise, see the love in my w[D]oman's eyes

Feel the touch of a pre[C]cious child, and know a mother's [G]love [D]

SOLO

G, D, C, G, D

I thank god [G]for my life

And for the s[D]tars and stripes

May freedom for[C]ever fly, let it [G]ring.

Salute the [G]ones who died

The ones that g[D]ive their lives so we don`t have to [C]sacrifice

All the things we l[G]ove [D]

Like our chicken [G]fried, cold beer on a f[D]riday night

A pair of jeans that f[C]it just right and the radio [G]up [D]

I like to seen the su[G]n rise, see the love in my w[D]oman's eyes

Feel the touch of a pre[C]cious child, and know a mother's [G]love [D]

Getcha a little c[G]hicken fried, cold beer[D] on a friday night

A pair of jeans that f[C]it just right and the radio [G]up [D]

I like to seen the su[G]n rise, see the love in my w[D]oman's eyes

Feel the touch of a pre[C]cious child, and know a mother's [G]love [D]

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Chicken Fried

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{t:Chicken Fried}
{st:Zac Brown Band}

#
#chords by:red
#
#E flat tuning
#
W[G]ell I was raised up beneath the sh[D]ade of a georgia pi[C]ne and that's h[D]ome

you know

[G]Sweet tea, pecan p[D]ie and home made w[C]ine where the p[D]eaches grow

[G]And my house it's not m[D]uch to talk a[C]bout           [D]

But it's [G]filled with love that's gr[D]own in southern g[C]round    [D]

And a little bit of chicken [G]fried, cold beer on a [D]friday night

A pair of jeans that f[C]it just right and the radio [G]up        [D]

I like to seen the su[G]n rise, see the love in my w[D]oman's eyes

Feel the touch of a pre[C]cious child, and know a mother's [G]love      [D]