Don Mclean - Homeless Brother chords

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

Album version:

G CI was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
E AmI heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
F C Am FIt was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
C G F CPouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
F G C AmSo often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
D GDown in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
F C Am FWhere the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
C G F CThere'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 CIt's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
E Ambut living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
F C Am FSomewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
C G F CThat Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
F G C AmAnd 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 FAnd they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
C G F CAnd 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 CSomewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
E AmSomewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
F C Am FBut somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
C G F CYou'll find the broken-hearted when you're traveling jungle-style.
F G C AmDown the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
D GWhere those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
F C Am FWhere the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend,
C G F CWhere 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 CThe ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
E AmThe Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
F C Am FThe children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
C G F CThere's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.
F G C AmAnd you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,
D GThe victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
F C Am FHe can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's whirs,
C G F CHe'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 DI was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
F# BmI heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
G D Bm GIt was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
D A G DPouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
G A D BmSo often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
E ADown in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
G D Bm GWhere the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
D A G DThere'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 DIt's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
F# Bmbut living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
G D Bm GSomewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
D A G DThat Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
G A D BmAnd 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 GAnd they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
D A G DAnd 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 DSomewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
F# BmSomewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
G D Bm GBut somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
D A G DYou'll find the broken-hearted when you're traveling jungle-style.
G A D BmDown the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
E AWhere those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
G D Bm GWhere the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend,
D A G DWhere 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 DThe ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
F# BmThe Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
G D Bm GThe children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
D A G DThere's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.
G A D BmAnd you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,
E AThe victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
G D Bm GHe can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's whirs,
D A G DHe'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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