D G A D

        D                  G
Let him roll, boys let him roll
  A                                D
I bet he's gone to Dallas Rest his soul

    D
Now He was a wino, tried and true
G
Done about everything there is to do
   A
He worked on freighters, he worked in bars
                          D                         
He worked on farms, 'n he worked on cars
 
           D
Now it was white port whine, that put that look in his eye
     G
That grown men get when they need to cry
    A
And we sat down on the curb to rest 
                                   D
And his head just fell down on his chest

         D
He said "Every single day it gets
       G
just a little bit harder to handle and yet..."
        A
Then he lost the thread and his mind got cluttered
                                      D
The words just rolled off down in the gutter

         D
He was a elevator man in a cheap hotel
      G
In exchange for the rent on a one room cell
         A
And he's years old before his time
                                D
No thanks to the world, and the white Port wine

             D
And he said "Son", he always called me son
          G
He said, "Life for you has just begun"
            A
And then he told me the story that I heard before
                           D
How he fell in love with a Dallas whore

         D
He could cut through the years to the very night
        G
That it all ended, in a whore house fight
        A
And she turned his last proposal down
                    D
In favor of being a girl about town

              D
Now it's been seventeen years right in line
       G
And he ain't been straight none of the time
     A
It's too many years of fightin' the weather
                           D
And too many nights of not being together

D
So he died...

        D                  G
Let him roll, boys let him roll
  A                                D 
I bet he's gone to Dallas Rest his soul
                           G
Let him roll, boys let him roll
   A                              
He always thought that heaven
    G             D
was just a Dallas whore

     D
When they went through his personal affects
    G
In among the stubs from the welfare checks
      A
Was a crumblin' picture of a girl in a door
                          D
An address in Dallas, and nothin' more

         D
Well the welfare people provided the priest
      G
And a couple from the mission down the street
      A
Sang Amasing Grace, and nobody cried
                             D
'Cept some lady in black way off to the side

D
We all left and she's standing there
    G
The black veil covering her silver hair
    A
And One-Eyed John said her name was Alice
                 D
She used to be a whore in Dallas

        D                  G
Let him roll, boys let him roll
  A                                D 
I bet he's gone to Dallas Rest his soul
                           G
Let him roll, boys let him roll
   A                              
He always thought that heaven
     G             D
was just a Dallas whore

D                           G   A   D
Let him roll, boys let him roll