| I | E |
| IV | A |
| V | B |
E
Country
road
233,
A
under
my
feet
E
Nothin'
on
this
white
rock
but
B
little
old
me
I've
got
E
two
miles
till
A
he
makes
bail.
E
And
if
I'm
right
we're
headed
B
straight
for
hell.
E
I'm
goin'
home,
gonna
load
my
shot-
gun.
A
Wait
by
the
door
and
light
a
cigarette.
E
If
he
wants a
fight
now
he's
got
one.
B
And
he
ain'r
seen
me
crazy
yet.
E
He slap
my face
and
he
shook me
like a
rag
doll.
A
Doesn't
that
sound
like
a
real
man.
E
I'm
going
to
show
him
what
little
girls
E
are
made
of
Gun-
powder
and
lead
E
It's
half
past
ten,
A
another
six
pack
in.
E
And I
can
feel the
rumble
like
the cold
black
wind.
B
He
pulls
in
the
drive,
E
the
gravel
flies,
A
He
don't
know
what's
E
waiting
here
this
time.
E
E
I'm
goin'
home,
gonna
load
my
shot-
gun.
A
Wait
by
the
door
and
light
a
cigarette.
E
If
he
wants a
fight
now
he's
got
one.
B
And
he
ain'r
seen
me
crazy
yet.
E
He slap
my face
and
he
shook me
like a
rag
doll.
A
Doesn't
that
sound
like
a
real
man.
E
I'm
going
to
show
him
what
little
girls
B
are
made
of
Gun-
powder
and
lead
A
His
fist
is
big,
A
but
my
gun
is
bigger
A
He'll
find
out
when
A
I
pull
the
trigger.
E
I'm
goin'
home,
gonna
load
my
shot-
gun.
A
Wait
by
the
door
and
light
a
cigarette.
E
If
he
wants a
fight
now
he's
got
one.
B
And
he
ain'r
seen
me
crazy
yet.
E
He slap
my face
and
he
shook me
like a
rag
doll.
A
Doesn't
that
sound
like
a
real
man.
E
I'm
going
to
show
him
what
little
girls
E
are
made
of
Gun-
powder
and
lead
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