sponsored links
+ --------------------------------------------------------------------- +
| Ultimate Guitar Tabs Archive - your #1 source for tabs!               |
| http://www.ultimate-guitar.com/                                       |
|                                                                       |
| Over 800,000 guitar, guitar pro and bass tabs! Also lessons, news,    |
| columns and guitar forums!                                            |
+ --------------------------------------------------------------------- +

                                        Standard Tuning 
No Capo

(Verse 1)
G           D    C     G
My first rifle was a .243,
       Em     D       C                G
Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me,
      D                     C                           Em
and they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand,
                   D                     C                G
I guess thats something you don't understand.


Now I grew up on a prison farm,

sneaking pulls of shine from a mason jar,

used to go fishing out pickle creek dam,

but I guess thats something you don't understand.

(Chorus)
      C                 G
Grandmas in the kitchen;
                          D
Papas drunk past dawn;
        C                   G
We sit out on the front porch,
            Em        D         C
Just a pickin on the songs;
                                G
and there's blood on the table,
     C              G              D
cause we work for what we have;
         Em           D        C
and I was raised in this land,
         Em           D              C             G
I guess thats something you don't understand.

(Verse 2)

I still fly that southern flag,

whistling Dixieland enough to brag,

and I know all the words to simple man,

I guess thats something you don't understand.


I pledge my allegiance the original way,

say Merry Christmas not happy holidays,

I cant change my ways I know who I am,

I guess thats something you don't understand.

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

 Bb                                    F
They'll grind us up in a big machine;
     C                                 G
They'll feed us all on the same beliefs,
  Bb                 F           C
Holy dollar and a credit card;
Bb                        F
but we got a way of doing things,
C                                 G
and no bankers gonna steal from me;
D
they wanna tear it all apart.

(Chorus)

(Verse 1)

My first rifle was a .243,

Papa gave Daddy and Daddy gave to me.
Show more
sponsored links
sponsored links