William Elliott Whitmore - Diggin my grave

^DmI'm diggin' my grave, I'm diggin' my grave My road to hell is surely pa^Aved With all the lo^Dmve that I never gave I'm diggin' my g^Arave, oh lord I'm diggin' my ^Dmgrave

^DmAnd the hole is made, with a pick and a spade And all the debts never re^Apaid Oh how I w^Dmish that I could have stayed But the hole is ^Amade, oh lord the hole is ^Dmmade

And the hole is ^Gshallow where I must ^Dlay The hole is ^Dmshallow, but that's okay Cause I'll have ^Dmpeace on my final d^Gay Down in this ^Dmshallow ^Ahole where I must ^Dmlay

^DmWell this July ground is mighty hard This July ground is mighty ^Ahard My back is ^Dmbroken, my hands are scared This J^Auly ground is mighty h^Dmard

^DmWell lord I wish that I hadn't sinned Oh oh I wish I hadn't ^Asinned That I could ^Dmbe with you again Oh oh I ^Awish Oh I wish I hadn't ^Dmsinned

And the hole is ^Gshallow where I must ^Dlay And the hole is ^Dmshallow but that's ^Aokay Cause I'll have ^Dmpeace on my final ^Gday Down in this ^Dmshallow ^Ahole where I must ^Dmlay

^DmThis Iowa dirt is mighty cold This Iowa dirt is mighty ^Acold And god will ^Dmnever rest my soul Down in this ^AIowa dirt so ^Dmcold

^DmI'm diggin' my grave, I'm diggin' my grave My road to hell is surely pa^Aved With all the lo^Dmve that I never gave I'm diggin' my g^Arave, oh lord I'm diggin' my ^Dmgrave