D D D D
D G A A
A A A G
D D D A
D D D D
D D G D
G D


[Verse 1]
       D                    G             D
In the beautiful hills, way back in Roane County
        D                            A
There’s where I roamed for many long years
        A        D            G            D
There’s where my heart’s been tending most ever
       D                          A         D
That’s where the first step of misfortune I made


[Instrumental]
D D G D
D D D A
A D G D
D D A D
D D G D
D D D A
A D G D
D D A D
G A D

[Verse 3]
D                          G             D
For twenty five years this whole world I rambled
D                                      A
I went to old England to France and to Spain
A                   D        G             D
But I thought of my home way back in Roane County
D                       A         D
I boarded a steamer and came back again


[Verse 4]
D                               G          D
I was captured and tried in the village of Kingston
D                                            A
Not a man in the county would speak one kind word
A                  D           G            D
When the jury came in with the verdict next morning
D                                A            A
Was a lifetime in prison was the words that I heard


[Instrumental]
D D G D
D D D A
A D G D
D D A A


[Verse 5]
D                              G            D
When the train pulled out poor mother stood weeping
D                               D
And sister she sat alone with a sigh
A                    D         G          D
And the last words I heard was Willie God bless you
D                         A              D
Was Willie God bless you, God bless you, good-bye


[Verse 6]
D                                 A           D
In the scorching hot sands of the foundry I'm working
D                                 A
Toiling and working my whole life away
A                  D            G            D
They'll measure my grave on the banks of the Cumberland
D                       A          D
As soon as I finish the rest of my days


[Verse 7]
D                          A            D
The jury was grave but the Judge he was better
D                                          G
There’s better and worse, although you can see
G                   D             A         D
Boys when you write home from the prison in Nashville
D                             A          D
Place one of my songs in your letter for me