Pozo Seco Singers - Ill be gone

^EbWhen the quiet evening comes and the ^Fmvillage ^Absoftly ^Fmlies, ^Bbtwinkling in the shadow of the ^Ebmountain. ^EbWhen the twilight's muffled drums play ^Abtattoos to the skies, and the ^Bbheavens close their eyes, I'll be ^Ebgone.

^EbWhen the fisher folds his net, ^Fmmakes his craft secure, and ^Bbgazes to the west for signs of ^Ebweather. ^EbWhen he thinks of his table set, his ^Abchildren at the door, as he ^Bbplods along the shore..I'll be ^Ebgone.

^EbWhen the merchant draws his shade, ^Fmcounts the day’s receipts, and ^Bbsmiles, recalling bits of idle ^Ebgossip. ^EbWhen the entries all are made in the ^Abledger's tidy sheets as he ^Bbshuffles down the streets..I'll be ^Ebgone.

^EbTis pretty, but is chains, and ^FmI must be free. So, ^Bbfare-thee-well, ye full, contented ^Ebfellow. ^EbNo quiet life for me, no ^Abhome, no family, ^Bbnow, and endlessly..I'll be ^Ebgone.