Dust On My Saddle

INTRO: A

CHORUS:
                   Bm
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
  E                                               A
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
                          Bm
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
     E                                            A    F#
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me


                                    Abm
They claim we were in Clinton, last year in the month of June
     Db                                            F#
They said on the night of the 17th, in Katy's old saloon
                                   Abm
A man was shot in cold blood, in a friendly poker game
   Db                                               F#
I don't know how it happened, but somehow I got the blame


CHORUS:
                   Bm
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
  E                                               A
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
                          Bm
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
     E                                            A    F#
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me


                                                Abm
Well, I've worked up in the gold mines and I've logged up in the hills
     Db                                                      F#
Come Spring, I'd drive the herds up, come Fall, I'd work the mills
                                              Abm
Well, I've done most every kind of work, from letter A to Z
  Db                                              F#
I guess I'll be a-riding now, the past is chasing me


CHORUS:
                   Bm
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
  E                                               A
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
                          Bm
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
     E                                            A    F#
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me


                                         Abm
Six years now since that fateful day. my riding days have ceased
         Db                                      F#
Well I'm hiding out in Kansas, they think I am a priest
                       Abm
I'm carrying a Bible instead of a forty-five
  Db                                      F#
Remembering that poster saying, "Dead or Alive"


                             Abm
Sunday sermon's over, I look out towards the bar
Db                                   F#
Several men are coming, one has on a star
                                        Abm
Well, I guess this time they caught me, running ain't no use
     Db                                                  F#
This robe will never stop them, they think they know the truth


                                 Abm
But now the star is speaking, he says that I am free
      Db                                           F#
These years I spent a-running, they didn't have to be
                                                 Abm
Well, they caught their man six years ago, right after I left town
   Db                                        F#
My riding days are over now and I can settle down


CHORUS:
A                  Bm
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
  E                                               A
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
                          Bm
I'm tired and I'm hungry, worried as can be
     E                                            A
Last night I saw a poster and they're still after me


CHORUS:
                   Bm
Dust on my saddle, mud on my boots
  E                                               A
A couple of empty saddle bags, except for two old suits
                          Bm
I'm tired and I'm hungry, lonely as can be
    E                  N.C.        A
I'm bound for Carolina, and my family