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Where Grass Wont Grow

Höfundur lags: Earl Montgomery Flytjandi: Anita Carter , George Jones , Dolly Parton og Hank Snow Sent inn af: Anonymous

[C]The dirt was clay and was [F]color of the blood in [C]me  
A twelve acre farm on a [F]ridge in south [G7]Tennessee
We [Am]left our sweat all [G7]over that land behind a [F]mule
We watched grow o-ld [G7]row after [C]row  
Trying to grow corn and cotton on [F]ground so poor that [G7]grass won't [C]grow

There was one old store in the [F]holler we all called [C]town
It belonged to a gentle old [F]man named Henry [G7]Brown
He [Am]gave us credit in the [G7]winter time so we could [F]live
Through the cold when the [G7]winds brought s[C]now  
Trying to grow corn and cotton on [F]ground so poor that [G7]grass won't [C]grow

Oh the one I loved walked [F]through those fields with [C]me  
She was a hard working woman [F]true as one could [G7]be   
Oh [Am]but then one year death was [G7]going round and [F]swiftly
Took it's toll Janie [G7]had to [C]go  
Now she lies asleep under [F]ground so poor that [G7]grass won't [C]grow

As I stand here looking over [F]this part of Tennes[C]see  
The fields are bare as [F]far as the eye can [G7]see   
And [Am]over the grave where [G7]Janie lies there's a [F]beautiful
Sight to behold [G7]and no one [C]knows
Why there's flowers growing on [F]ground so poor that [G7]grass won't [C]grow
Now there's flowers growing on [F]ground so poor that [G7]grass won't [C]grow


The dirt was clay and was color of the blood in me
A twelve acre farm on a ridge in south Tennessee
We left our sweat all over that land behind a mule
We watched grow o-ld row after row
Trying to grow corn and cotton on ground so poor that grass won't grow

There was one old store in the holler we all called town
It belonged to a gentle old man named Henry Brown
He gave us credit in the winter time so we could live
Through the cold when the winds brought snow
Trying to grow corn and cotton on ground so poor that grass won't grow

Oh the one I loved walked through those fields with me
She was a hard working woman true as one could be
Oh but then one year death was going round and swiftly
Took it's toll Janie had to go
Now she lies asleep under ground so poor that grass won't grow

As I stand here looking over this part of Tennessee
The fields are bare as far as the eye can see
And over the grave where Janie lies there's a beautiful
Sight to behold and no one knows
Why there's flowers growing on ground so poor that grass won't grow
Now there's flowers growing on ground so poor that grass won't grow

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