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Chorus: Cold
mountain mourning, thirteen on their knees A
cold mountain mourning, twelve were suppos’d to
leave But
the mountain hollers, beacon back to me. (D) (Am) (D) (Am) i She
tells of tales of sorrows, men of honored deeds (G)
(D) Black
money’s good, it beckons back to me. (D) (Am) Brother
John was saying, they were all to pray (D) (Am) One
had perished and it came to be his day (G)
(D) Few
answered his call, as it beckoned back to me, Chorus: (D) (Am) Elders
ask for prayer, for the brother slain (D)
(Am) While
others yelled in joy, knowing theirs’ were saved (G)
(D) Seeing
is believing as it beckons back to me. That
mountain speaks to me, it speaks of misery That
mountain talks to me. (D) (Am) Night
turns to night, three hours have past (D) (Am) Confusion
in the control room, then word at last (G) (D) Twelve
now gone, it beckons back to me, D
(Am) It’s
a cruel mountain morning, thirteen on their knees, (D) (Am) A
cruel mountain morning, twelve were supposed to leave, (G)
(D) But
the mountain hollers, beckon back to me. Chorus: /C9
/ / / /GE / / //D Twelve were supposed to leave, Twelve were supposed to
leave. Twelve were meant to leave. Thirteen on their knees. Twelve were meant to leave. Twelve were meant to leave. ©Writer Randy Brock© ©Tuesday, |
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