I adore this song. I think that the chorus sounds better when it is played with
barre chords higher up the fretboard. Enjoy!
We got the last of the apples,
Rosy just from the weather,
An orchard map spread out green and red.
A ten-cent yellow hat,
Rotten fruit kicked off the path.
Our hands in our pockets
And our pockets in our pants.
Racing out ahead to be the reddest heart beat beating,
Out on the scene busting blood through a young body.
A puddle with a jacket cap,
A picnic in a mountain pass,
A taste of summer coming back:
A summer swam by a foggy dam.
A Poughkeepsie scam around a mountain bend.
The season changed, the best of us changed.
The rest of us stuck behind to keep the silver shined.
, ,
A piano in a window bay
A straight back with a ribboned braid
Blue Ridge brick in an almond shade
A chin on a worn-out wrist.
A magnet with a grocery list says:
My, oh my, my toes get tired,
But I dont let on, or let goâI sing along.
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Back home Ive got a couple friends
We drink together on the weekends
We keep our nails trimmed and fingers tough.
Iâve got a felt hat collection,
A dresser drawer to put my pants in.
What, oh, what more could a woman want?
I want an overhaul for my guitar,
A string endort and a shiney new car.
Piles of fruit and a fully stocked bar.
Money for a flight out west,
Cute shoes and a vintage dress,
Big, new houses for all my relatives.
I want to land in a tugging hand:
A youthful bed with a youthful plan.
I want to wait and take my time,
All my time, and keep my silver shined.
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, , .