Red Buds by William Elliott Whitmore

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	          Red Buds - William Elliott Whitmore
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Tabbed by: Steve Henderson
Email: drtywrk_21@hotmail.com

Tuning: standard

Intro: G A C G  2x

Verse:
G                         A                         C     
Well the wind blows hard upon weepin' will hair and the red buds
           G        G                            A 
sway in the breeze/ And if you listen real close you can hear the 
                C                     G
distant cry of a broken man on his knees.

Chorus:
C                             G    
And the rain beats hard on a poor man's head
C                                       G 
And the wind blows the nails out of the tin roof of shame
A                           C                   G (A little hammer on pull  
And the water keeps on risin at the old homestead  ...off on the A string)

Verse:
G                                  A                         C 
Well if the corns knees high by the fourth of July and Mother Nature
             G     G                                      A   
smiles on us all/ And there's a ring around the moon and that means
                        C                                 G
rain is comin' soon and we'll have a good harvest this fall.

Chorus:
C                             G
And the rain beats hard on a poor on man's head
C                                       C
And the wind blows the nails out of the tin roof of shame
A                           C                   G
And the moon keeps on shinin at the old homestead

Verse:
G                               A                          C
Well the wind blows through the wheat field at night and it plays a 
         G    G                                         A
lonely tune/ And the bones clatter in the trees waving endless summer
                        C                             G
breeze/ Well there ain't nothin like Lee County in June

Chorus:
C                            G
And the rain beats hard on a poor man's head
C                                       G
And the wind blows the nails out of the tin roof of shame
A                            C                   G
And the river keeps on flowin at the old homestead


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