The Trip chords by Dave Rawlings Machine

"The Trip" - Dave Rawlings Machine - Nashville Obsolete - 2015
               Transcribed by wranglingoutlaw

Intro -  | G | C | G | G |
         | G | C | G | G |
         | C | C | G | G |
         | D | D | G | G |

G                             C
 Whistles blowing, people get on trains
               G
Without knowing where They're going
G                              C
 Someone's Daughter, someone's Sister,
                 G
someone's Teacher going down the road

C
 With a body, a handkerchief,
       G
And a hatchet from an unspeakable crime
D
 But there's no one waiting for Them,
                     G
There's no judgement down the line

G                  C
 Banjos ring and chickens squall,
G
 And little babies crow
G                           C
 The winter leaves, and the spring unwinds,
    G
And summer comes again You know

C
 Pink is the colour of My true love's dress,
                 G
And black is the colour of Her heart
D
 But I could never leave old Virgini',
    C            G
And so it never parts

G                       C
 Ebony face, ebony nails,
             G
Ebony coffin on the rails
G                  C
 Moving south, C-O-D,
          G
Going home to mother

C
 Some said for valor, for glory,
    G
for treasure, for pride
D                                G
 Sometimes brother hates brother

    C                         G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
     D                              C      G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home

G                              C
My boots are cracked with road dirt and asphalt,
 G
Spit, and broken dreams
G                        C
 Chewing gum and safety pins,
         G
All what hold Me in at the seams

C                                         G
 My pegs are loose, my screws too tightly wound to get in tune
    D                                     C          G
But I still try sometimes on those golden summer afternoons

   C                          G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
     D                              C      G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home

 | G | C | G | G |
 | G | C | G | G |
 | C | C | G | G |
 | D | D | G | G |

G                               C
 There's a picture of an old black man,
G
 In a beaver hat
G           C
 He wears a hidden smile
      G
And a pair of white spats

C                         G
 Don't pretend You didn't notice His stare
        D                      C          G
You're edgy, and sweating, and loaded for bear

G                    C
The skeletons dance tonight,
           G
Bring Your bottle and Your boots
G                         C
 And Your mandolin that Bianca -
   G
Alatorre tried to shoot

C                               G
 Oh but what's a bullet hole or two between friends ?
    D                                     C               G
And who can say when the well goes dry or where the story ends ?

   C                          G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
     D                              C      G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home

 | G | C | G | G |
 | G | C | G | G |
 | C | C | G | G |
 | D | D | G | G |

G                C
 Hotel lives and hotel wives
       G
That come and go with the sheets
  G
Ah, But what's a marriage
C               G
 If it can't be held up to kitchen heat?

C                                G
 Once I knew each valley of that beautiful shore
    D                             C       G
But I don't go to the summer fair much anymore

   C                          G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience says to roam
     D                              C      G
It's much too much to try to live a lie at home

G                  C
 Your harmonica is blown baby,
G
Throw it away
G                     C
 Your denim shirt is ragged
          G
And Your dirty collar is frayed

C                                       G
 I tried to play My horn for You, but I couldn't seem to find a note
     D                            C              G
So I picked up pen and paper, and this is what I wrote

   C                          G
Go take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
     D                              C      G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home

| D | C | G | G | x7