Аккорды Прикольные песни - Days Of Forty-nine

[Verse 1]
       Am            G
We are gazing now on old Tom Moore,
  Am       G      Am
A relic of bygone days
       Am                G
'Tis a bummer, too, they call me now,
    Am         G     Am
But what cares I for praise?
     C                    G
It's oft, says I, for the days gone by
     Am       G
It's oft do I repine
        Am                  G
For the days of old when we dug out the gold
         Am      G      Am
In those days of Forty-Nine

[Verse 2]
   Am                G
My comrades they all loved me well,
    Am     G     Am
The jolly, saucy crew;
  Am                G
A few hard cases, I will admit
       Am        G         Am
Though they were brave and true
    C                    G
Whatever the pinch, they ne'er would flinch;
     Am                   G
They never would fret nor whine
     Am                   G
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine

[Verse 3]
        Am                    G
There's old "Aunt Jess," that hard old cuss,
    Am    G     Am
Who never would repent;
   Am             G
He never missed a single meal,
    Am    G      Am
Not never paid a cent.
    C                     G
But old "Aunt Jess," like all the rest,
   Am           G
At death he did resign
    Am                G
And in his bloom went up the flume
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine

[Verse 4]
         Am               G
There is Ragshag Jim, the roaring man,
          Am             G        Am
Who could out-roar a buffalo, you bet,
   Am                    G
He roared all day and he roared all night,
      Am          G       Am
And I guess he is roaring yet.
    C                   G
One night Jim fell in a prospect hole,
         Am            G
It was a roaring bad design,
    Am                      G
And in that hole Jim roared out his soul
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine.

[Verse 5]
         Am              G
There is Wylie Bill, the funny man,
        Am      G     Am
Who was full of funny tricks,
    Am               G
And when he was in a poker game
       Am     G       Am
He was always hard as bricks.
         C                         G
He would ante you a stud, he would play you a draw
        Am           G
He'd go you a hatful blind,
     Am                       G
In a struggle with death Bill lost his breath
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine.

[Verse 6]
          Am                 G
There was New York Jake, the butcher boy,
        Am      G       Am
Who was fond of getting tight.
    Am                G
And every time he got on a spree
       Am       G     Am
He was spoiling for a fight.
    C                     G
One night Jake rampaged against a knife
       Am               G
In the hands of old Bob Sine,
    Am             G
And over Jake they held a wake
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine.

[Verse 7]
          Am               G
There was Monte Pete, I'll ne'er forget
    Am      G      Am
The luck he always had,
         Am                G
He would deal for you both day and night
      Am         G     Am
Or as long as he had a scad.
         C                G
It was a pistol shot that lay Pete out,
   Am           G
It was his last resign,
       Am               G
And it caught Pete dead sure in the door
       Am      G     Am
In the days of Forty-Nine.

[Verse 8]
   Am               G
Of all the comrades that I've had
        Am          G       Am
There's none that's left to boast,
         Am               G
And I am left alone in my misery
     Am        G         Am
Like some poor wandering ghost.
    C              G
And as I pass from town to town,
          Am              G
They call me the rambling sign,
          Am                  G
Since the days of old and the days of gold,
        Am      G     Am
And the days of Forty-Nine.