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Don Mclean - Homeless Brother chords

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Chords originally posted by Juergen Wuest (HiWi CEMP).
I just indicated the chords through the whole song and transposed it.

Album version:

      G                         C
I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
  E                         Am
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
       F              C            Am             F
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
        C              G          F               C
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
   F            G                    C                 Am
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
D                                     G
Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
          F             C                    Am             F
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
        C                 G        F                          C
There's freedom when your walking, even though you're walking slow.

   F                      G              C              Am
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   D             G             C
   that homeless brother is my friend.


     G                           C
It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
    E                                Am
but living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
    F                  C               Am               F
Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
     C            G             F        C
That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
         F             G              C              Am
And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill,
         D                          G 
And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill.
         F             C                Am           F
And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
            C               G               F            C
And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill.

   F                      G              C              Am
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   D             G             C
   that homeless brother is my friend.


      G                          C
Somewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
E                                      Am
Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
    F                     C                Am             F
But somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
       C               G                   F               C
You'll find the broken-hearted when you're traveling jungle-style.
         F           G                 C                 Am
Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
      D                                     G
Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
          F                      C                 Am          F
Where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend,
      C                G          F          C
Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end.

   F                      G              C              Am
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   D             G             C
   that homeless brother is my friend.


    G                              C
The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
    E                                Am
The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
    F                   C              Am                 F
The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
        C                 G               F                 C
There's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.
    F                G            C              Am
And you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,
    D                           G
The victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
         F                C                 Am                      F
He can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's whirs,
     C              G                F             C
He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees.

   F                      G              C              Am
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   D             G             C
   that homeless brother is my friend.







+2 tones (sounds better to me)

      A                         D
I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
  F#                         Bm
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
       G              D            Bm             G
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
        D              A          G               D
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
   G            A                    D                 Bm
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
E                                     A
Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
          G             D                    Bm             G
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
        D                 A        G                          D
There's freedom when your walking, even though you're walking slow.

   G                      A              D              Bm
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   E             A             D
   that homeless brother is my friend.


     A                           D
It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
    F#                                Bm
but living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
    G                  D               Bm               G
Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
     D            A             G        D
That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
         G             A              D              Bm
And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill,
         E                          A 
And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill.
         G             D                Bm           G
And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
            D               A               G            D
And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill.

   G                      A              D              Bm
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   E             A             D
   that homeless brother is my friend.


      A                          D
Somewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
F#                                      Bm
Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
    G                     D                Bm             G
But somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
       D               A                   G               D
You'll find the broken-hearted when you're traveling jungle-style.
         G           A                 D                 Bm
Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
      E                                     A
Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
          G                      D                 Bm          G
Where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend,
      D                A          G          D
Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end.

   G                      A              D              Bm
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   E             A             D
   that homeless brother is my friend.


    A                              D
The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
    F#                                Bm
The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
    G                   D              Bm                 G
The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
        D                 A               G                 D
There's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.
    G                A            D              Bm
And you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,
    E                           A
The victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
         G                D                 Bm                      G
He can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's whirs,
     D              A                G             D
He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees.

   G                      A              D              Bm
   Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
   E             A             D
   that homeless brother is my friend.
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