Rambler's Lament chords by Eric Andersen

SimplifiedG · F · C

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Intro 1

Verse 1
G 
The wind is
howling on your mountain
F 
G 
And the rain is pounding
on your shoulder
You feel rich, still getting richer
F 
And you're poor,
C 
G 
still getting poorer
F 
C 
G 
You're poor, still getting poorer
I've rambled through your city
F 
G 
And I've rambled through your town,
I slept many a night
F 
Your grey high walls with floors
G 
as cold as your ground
F 
G 
There was no other bed to be found

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Verse 2
G 
Your roadway hurts my feet
F 
G 
My suitcase hurts my hand
Your highway son burns my face
F 
G 
But I know I can't stop trav
eling through your land
F 
G 
I know I can't stop ped
aling through your land
Your cold rock has been my pillow
F 
C 
G 
Your ground has been my bed
Your highway was my home
F 
G 
By your fence rail I'm gonna lay my head
F 
G 
By your fence rail I'm gonna
F 
G 
F 
G 
lay my head
I've rambled through your
southern country
F 
G 
Where grief and sickness fill the air
I've rambled through your
southern country
F 
G 
There was children born everywhere
F 
C 
G 
There was children dyin' everywhere
I've watched your wealthy
wheeler -dealers
F 
G 
Puttin' in a poor man freeze
right to the bone
They're money -whiskey women
They ever leave their side
F 
Like a poor man they're bound
G 
to die alone
F 
Yes, they were born and
G 
they're gonna die alone
I've met your fair and tender ladies
F 
G 
My face is like a key to their front door
But a rambler's the kind of man
that's never married
F 
They'll keep on lovin' you
G 
a hundred times or more
F 
C 
Still keep on lovin' you a hundred times
G 
F 
G 
or more
F 
G 
Sometimes I get sober
F 
C 
Sometimes get warm to
G 
drinkin' wine
Though your wind is a
-howlin' round my shoulder
F 
C 
G 
Well, my blood is frozen, pa cify my mind
F 
Well, my blood is frozen,
G 
think I'm feelin' fine
Your boxcar ain't no fiddle bit
F 
G 
Your whistle ain't no lovebird song
Your tracks ain't no ladder,
my true love's arm
F 
G 
To a train, please don't hold my arm
F 
C 
It's a train that's goin' home,
G 
F 
G 
F 
G 
I know
Oh, where is that man you called
Jesus?
He never come when I could have my door
G 
G 
On my hands and my knees I've
been searchin'
F 
G 
But the only thing I found was my floor
F 
G 
But the only thing I found was your floor
G 
People say a rambler's born to lose
F 
Yeah, a gambler's always
G 
born with a wounded hand
I try to close my ears when I
hear you whistle blow
F 
But I know a man's got
bread and fruit to land
I know he's not ready to leave