Poverty Hill by The Kingston Trio



     C (x32010@1)                                          BmThey (x24432@1)come in their summery dresses and jackets so fine, 
    C (x32010@1)                                              Bmthe (x24432@1)rich folks who measure success with a big dollar sign.
     C (x32010@1)                                             BmThey (x24432@1)gaze with delight at the rocks and the scraggly pines. 
     C (x32010@1)                         BmThey (x24432@1)come in the Spring and they stay 'til the Fall
   C (x32010@1)               Bm (x24432@1)         DOn (xx0232@1)Paradise Mountain away from it all.

Chorus:

C (x32010@1)         D (xx0232@1)          C (x32010@1)         DStubble (xx0232@1)and stone make a hard row to hoe. 
     C (x32010@1)         D (xx0232@1)       C (x32010@1)          D (xx0232@1)What little will grow, the drought will kill.
    C (x32010@1)                           DThe (xx0232@1)summer folks call it Paradise Mountain
    C (x32010@1)                Dbut (xx0232@1)we call it Poverty Hill.


     C (x32010@1)                                      BmThey (x24432@1)say we have beautiful faces as grainy as wood.
            C (x32010@1)                                          Bm (x24432@1)And, they'd like to live here of all places if only they could.
         C (x32010@1)                                                BmWell, (x24432@1)we don't get these wood, grainy faces from livin' too good. 
         C (x32010@1)                   Bm (x24432@1)          
It's the rocks and the sun and dust and the heat.
     C (x32010@1)                      Bm (x24432@1)      DIt's (xx0232@1)too much of work and too little to eat.

(Chorus)

     C (x32010@1)                                        BmThey (x24432@1)pack and say what a pity that they have to go.
     C (x32010@1)                                              BmThey (x24432@1)say that Old Smokey's so pretty all covered with snow,
    C (x32010@1)                                           BmBut (x24432@1)how we get through the winter they never will know.
   C (x32010@1)                     Bm (x24432@1)   
No lard for the pantry. No grist for the meal
    C (x32010@1)                    Bm (x24432@1)    DAnd (xx0232@1)winter's are cold over Poverty Hill.

(Chorus)
     C (x32010@1)                DYes, (xx0232@1)we call it Poverty Hill.