Days Of '49 chords by Fairport Convention

SimplifiedAm · G · C · F

GuitarUkulelePiano

Intro 1

Verse 1
Am 
I'm Old Tom Moore
G 
from the bummer's shore
Am 
G 
Am 
In the good old golden days
G 
They call me a bum and a gin- soaked hoo
Am 
G 
Am 
But what care I for praise
C 
I've wandered around from
Am 
town to town
C 
Am 
They call me the Ramblin' Sign
F 
And all the people say,
C 
"There goes Tom Moore
Am 
In the days of forty- nine."
G 
My comrades they all loved me well
Am 
G 
Am 
A jolly saucy crew
G 
A few hard cases I will recall
Am 
Though they were all
G 
Am 
brave and true
C 
Whatever the pinch they
Am 
never would flinch
C 
Am 
They never would fret or whine
F 
C 
And like good old bricks they took the kicks
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
F 
C 
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
F 
C 
How oft'times I repine
F 
In the days of old
C 
When we dug up the gold
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
G 
There was Big Bad Bob from Buffalo
Am 
G 
Him I can't forget
Am 
He would roar all day and
G 
he would roar all night
Am 
G 
Am 
And I guess he's a- roarin' yet
C 
Am 
One day he fell in a prospect hole
C 
Am 
In a roarin' bad design
F 
C 
And in that hole he roared out his soul
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
F 
In the days of old
C 
When we dug up the gold
F 
C 
How oft'times I repine
F 
C 
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
Am 
G 
Am 
G 
In the days of forty- nine
Am 
G 
C 
Am 
C 
Am 
Now
F 
C 
Am 
G 
Am 
G 
Poker Bill was one of the boys
Am 
He was always in a game
G 
Whether he won or whether he lost
Am 
G 
Am 
To him it was all the same
C 
Am 
He would ante up and draw his cards
C 
Am 
And go a hundred dollars blind
F 
C 
In a game with death Bill lost his breath
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
There was New York Jake,
G 
the butcher's boy
Am 
G 
Am 
He was always gettin' tight
G 
And every time that he got full
Am 
G 
Am 
He was coilin' for a fight
G 
C 
Am 
And old Jake rampaged against the knife
C 
Am 
In the hands of old Bob Sykes
F 
C 
And over Jake they held a wake
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
F 
In the days of old
C 
When we dug up the gold
F 
How oft'times I repine
C 
F 
In the days of old
C 
When we dug up the gold
Am 
G 
Am 
Am 
In the days of forty- nine
G 
My comrades now they've all gone
Am 
G 
Am 
There's none that's left to boast
G 
And I'm left alone in my misery
Am 
G 
Am 
Like the son of a wanderin' ghost
C 
I've wandered around from
Am 
town to town
C 
Am 
They call me the Ramblin' Sign
F 
And all the people say,
C 
"There goes Tom Moore
Am 
In the days of forty- nine."
F 
In the days of old
C 
When we dug up the gold
F 
C 
How oft'times I repine
F 
C 
Am 
In the days of old
G 
Am 
G 
F 
C 
F 
C 
G 
F 
C 
When we dug up the gold
Am 
G 
Am 
In the days of forty- nine