The Low Highway

steve earle - the low highway Intro C * - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - | - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - | - - - - - 0 - - - 0 - - - - 0 - 0 - 0h2 - 0 - - - 0 - - - - - 0 - - - - - - - 0 - ( 0 ) - - 0 - - - - - - - 0 - - - - - | - 2 - - - 0 - 0h2 - - - - 0 - 0 - - - - - 0 - 0h2 - - - 0 - - - - - 0 - 0h2 - - - - - - 2 - 2h3 - - - 2 - - - - - | - 3 - - - 3 - - - 3 - - - - - - - - - - 3 - 3 - - - 3 - - - - - - - 3 - - - - - 3 - - - - - - 3 - - - 3 - - - 3 - - - 3 - | - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - | Verse 1 C travelin’ now on the low highway , three thousand miles to the frisco bay across the rivers wild and the lonesome plains up the coast and down and back again Am - - - - - - - - - - - - 0 - - - - - - - - - - - | i saw empty houses on a dead end street - 1 - 1 - 1/3 - - 3 - - - - 3 - - - - - 1 - - | C - 2 - 2 - 2/4 - - 4 - - - - - - 0 - 0h2 - - | people linin’ up for something to eat - 2 - 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - 0 - 0h2 - - | Am - 0 - 0 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 0 - - | and the ghost of america watching me - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - | through the broken windows of the factories F C Am C pickin’ bones of a better day as i roll down the low highway Interlude ( C * ) | | | | | Verse 2 C travelin’ now on the low highway by the yellow moon and the light of day snow white crown of the mountain tall to the valley down where the shadows fall Am met a man with a rifle in his hand C been away to battle in a distant land Am taught him to hate taught him to kill now he’s out on the road with a hole to fill F C nobody knows the price he paid Am C G/B so he’s taken his toll on the low highway Interlude Am | | | | | x2 C | C G/B | Am | C | | Verse 3 C travelin’ now on the low highway , windows down , listenin’ wheels turnin’ round on the asphalt sayin’ every sound is a prophecy Am heard an old man grumble and a young girl cry C brick wall crumble , white dove fly Am the call for justice and the cry for peace and the voice of reason and the roar of the beast F C Am C and every mile was a prayer i prayed as i rolled down the low highway