Am                                                        G
Been walking the dirt floor, my eyes are open Lord 
                     C                          F
Where did you go, have we just left you bored? 
Am                      G
On down this unholy well we rolled 
            C                            F
Stirring barrels in hell to be warm 


                 G                              C
It's further back down than the high ground 
                       F                          Am
Ain't milk and honey, we're movin' round 
     G                         F
Only one thing is certain 
        G
That's everybody 
                  Am
Everybody's hurting 


Am                                                     G
We come from the country where the rain follows plow 
           C                                                            F
And the evenings are cold enough to pluck your feathers out 
Am                                        F              C
We hear your engines roaring deep and loud
                                 G                            Am
As we work the mules on this bludgeoned ground

 
Am                  F
We've hunted these hills dry
                              Dm                           G7            C   Am
We've long outlasted the winter and our last wood pile
                           F
Only one thing is certain 
        G
That's everybody 
            Am
Everybody's hurting 


Am                                          G
Through rolling acres of boneyards we drift 
  C                                         F
Our spirits' been broken been splintered to bits
Am                              F
Faith is believing what you see ain't so 
Dm                                                  G7
My sweetheart we've got to learn to live with these ghosts
Dm                         G7       
They can't leave; we can't...

G7   C   F   G  
go... 

Am   F   


Am                                  G
We'd sell this valley if we could go north 
                 C                          F
Where the sun sets dripping buckets of gold 
Am                                          G                        
Through snow topped thunderheads and rows of wind clouds 
C                                                           F
Coming down this mountain how sweet salvation sounds 


         G                    C
With our hands out like lowly pilgrims 
       F                                        Am
As the old men death salute the young ones in
        G                                    F
Already know what we're just learning 
       G
That's everybody
           Am
Everybody's hurting