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The Warm Red Wine

Höfundur lags: Bob Wills og Cindy Walker Flytjandi: George Jones og Burl Stephens Sent inn af: Anonymous

[C]Put a nickel in the jukebox and [F]let it [C]play
For my heart is so cold with [G7]pain   
Take the [C]cork from the bottle of the [F]warm red [C]wine
And fill my [G7]glass up [C]again

Fill my [F]glass to the brim till it [C]flows over the rim
Like the tears flow in this heart of [G7]mine   
And I´ll [C]say so long to the [F]dreams that are[C] gone
On account of the [G7]warm red [C]wine

A prison of stone with its [F]cold iron [C]bars
Is no more a prison than [G7]mine   
I´m a [C]prisoner of drink and can [F]never [C]es-cape
From the chains of the [G7]warm red [C]wine

A prison of stone with its [F]cold iron [C]bars
Is no more a prison than [G7]mine   
I´m a [C]prisoner of drink and can [F]never [C]es-cape
From the chains of the [G7]warm red [C]wine


Put a nickel in the jukebox and let it play
For my heart is so cold with pain
Take the cork from the bottle of the warm red wine
And fill my glass up again

Fill my glass to the brim till it flows over the rim
Like the tears flow in this heart of mine
And I´ll say so long to the dreams that are gone
On account of the warm red wine

A prison of stone with its cold iron bars
Is no more a prison than mine
I´m a prisoner of drink and can never es-cape
From the chains of the warm red wine

A prison of stone with its cold iron bars
Is no more a prison than mine
I´m a prisoner of drink and can never es-cape
From the chains of the warm red wine

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