Misc Originals – Butch Wormwood - Hills Got My Soul (Guitar)

 C           Am                 F                  G
Dusty roads they wind and climb, beneath the hazy sky,

  C           Am                F                             G
Sun sinks low behind the ridge, where the lonely whippoorwills cry.

  C             Am               F                  G
Cabin walls are weathered brown, seen many a year go by,

 C           Am             F            G     C
Just the whisper of the wind, a lonesome lullaby.

 C           Am             F           G     C
Oh, the whisper of the wind, a lonesome lullaby.

C              E               Am                      G
Oh, these West Virginia hills, they got a hold on my soul,

 C              E              Am                   G
Blue mist hangin' low and deep, makin' my spirit whole.

 C             Am            F                     G
Ain't no place I'd rather be, when my weary day is done,

 C               Am                   F             G       C
Than lost within your ancient peaks, 'til the risin' of the sun.

C              Am                 F             G          C
Lost within your ancient peaks,  'Til the risiing of the sun.

 C                 Am              F                      G
Down in the holler, shadows creep, where the muddy river flows,

 C               Am          F                           G
Hear the echoes of the past, and the tales the mountain knows.

 C               Am                F                  G
Worked the mines with aching back, for a dollar and a dime,

C              Am             F                G      C
But the spirit in these hills, it just keeps on climbin'.

  C              Am             F                  G    C
Yeah, the spirit in these hills, it just keeps on climbin'.

 C             Am              F                     G
Oh, these West Virginia hills, they got a hold on my soul,

 C               Am             F                G
Blue mist hangin' low and deep, makin' my spirit whole.

 C             Am             F                    G
Ain't no place I'd rather be, when my weary day is done,

 C             Am                    F               G       C
Than lost within your ancient peaks, 'til the risin' of the sun.

C                Am             F              G       C
Lost within your ancient peaks,'Til the risin' of the sun.

  C           Am               F                       G
Oh, these West Virginia hills, they got a hold on my soul,

  C               Am           F                   G
Blue mist hangin' low and deep, makin' my spirit whole.

 C                 Am         F                      G
Ain't no place I'd rather be, when my weary day is done,

 C               Am                F                  G       C
Than lost within your ancient peaks, 'til the risin' of the sun.

 C           Am                F                  G       C
Lost within your ancient peaks, 'Til the risin' of the sun.