Hard Time Blues
Times
are hard all around; I can’t get my feet on solid ground
I
picked up that shovel and I moved that old steam powered train
All
of the years that I worked on the line, lord
You’d
think by now I’d have a dollar or a dime
I’m
just as poor as when I started at the A W T
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F
Em Am
F C F D
From the empty in my pockets to the
holes in my shoes
F G C (Am F G C )
<BREAK> verse
High
lonesome sound of the boxcars at night
Cutting
through the pines on the Georgia countryside
I’ll
ride the flagman until the day they bury me
Times
are hard all around; I can’t get my feet on solid ground
<CHORUS>
<BREAK> verse
<CHORUS>