Old Crow Medicine Show – Bootleggers Boy (Guitar)

e--2--
B--2--
G--2--
D--4--
A--4--
E--2--

A     E         A        E            A
I was born and raised, A bootlegger's boy,

       E        A        E          A
In the Cherokee Hills, I applied my trade,

   E        D                A          E      A         E       A
In Mountain City, I had me a time, just makin' money, on Moonshine.

     E         A          E         A
So I hauled my load, into Knoxville town,

  E        A           E       A 
I met me a gal, and we knocked around,

         E         D                     A
But them Knoxville girls, can't leave me alone,

      E        A            E         A
In my suits so fine, and my bottle of corn.

          D                A                 F#           A
I'm going back to Mountain City, Where I can make another run,

        F#                    A              D                   A
Load my trunk, with Moonshine whisky, I am a brave, Bootlegger's Son.

       E         A            E       A
So I sold that corn, to the Circuit Judge,

       E      A          E     A
On the public square, to Mayor Trent,

      E        D                          A
But I met with trouble, on the tracks one night,

       E       A      E            A
With a drunken man, I commenced to fight.

       E           A              E       A
Yeah I fought five rounds, then I put him away,

       E      A           E     A
With a wicked jab, from a razor blade,

        E     D                        A
And the women screamed, as the bottles broke,

   E     A                 E         A
On stony ground, where the blood did flow.

          D                A           F#                  A
I'm going back to Mountain City, gonna make those revenues run

           F#                A               F#                  A
I killed a man, in a feud of whiskey, I am a cruel, Bootlegger's son.

      E        A              E       A
Now I roam the night, just to hide my shame,

       E      A            E      A 
I lost all my money, can't find a friend,

      E       D                        A
Gonna drag my bones, to the mountainside,

   E          A       D              A
If corn don't kill me, I might never die.

          D                A                     F#             A
I'm going back to Mountain City, or else they'll hang me this I know,

           F#                A               F#                  A
I killed a man, in a feud of whiskey, I am a cruel, Bootlegger's boy.

          D                A                     F#              A
I'm going back to Mountain City, to the Cherokee hills I started from,

           F#               A            F#                  A
Going home broke ain't it a pity, I am a cruel, Bootlegger's son.