Doc Watson - Tom dooley

** ^GHang your head, Tom ^CDooley, ^CHang your head and ^Gcry; ** ^DYou killed poor Laurie ^GFoster, And you know ^Cyou're bound to die. ^G

^GYou left her by the ^Croadside Where you ^Cbegged to be excused; ^{G D}You left her by the r^Goadside, Then you hi^Cd her clothes and sh^Goes.

^GYou took her on the ^Chillside For to mak^Ce her your wife; ^{G D}You took her on the ^Ghillside, And the^Cre you took her li^Gfe. ^GYou dug the grave f^Cour feet long And you^C dug it three feet deep; ^{G D}You rolled the cold clay ^Gover her And tr^Comped it with your feet. ^G

^G"Trouble, oh ^Cit's trouble A-rollin^C' through my breast; ^{G D}As long as I'm a-^Glivin', boys, They a^Cin't a-gonna let me r^Gest. ^GI know they're gonna ^Chang me, Tom^Corrow I'll be de^Gad, ^DThough I never even h^Garmed a hair ^COn poor little Laurie's ^Ghead."

^G"In this world^C and one more^C Then reckon where I'll^G be; ^DIf is wasn't for Sheriff ^GGrayson, I'd be ^Cin Tennesee. ^{G G}You can take down my ol^Cd violin A^Cnd play it all you ^Gplease. ^DFor at this time to^Gmorrow, boys, It'll be of n^Co use to me.&quo^Gt;

^G"At this tim^Ce to-morrow Whe^Cre do you reckon I'll be^G? ^DAway down yonder in the ^Gholler Ha^Cngin' on a white oak t^Gree.