Rock Salt And Nails por Bob Dylan, tablaturas y acordes en PlayUkuleleNET

Rock Salt And Nails

Biografía:

Bob Dylan nació con el nombre de Robert Allen Zimmerman el 24 de mayo de 1941 en Duluth, Minnesota (Estados Unidos). Está considerado uno de los compositores y músicos más influyentes y prolíficos del siglo XX y ha sido nominado varias veces al Premio Nobel de Literatura.
En 2007 fue galardonado con el Premio Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes por ser un "mito viviente" de la historia de la música popular y "faro de una generación que tuvo el sueño de cambiar el mundo".

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#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
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#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
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Date: Wed, 18 Dec 1996 11:30:01 -0600
From: Brian Davies
Subject: New Version of Dylan's "Rock Salt And Nails"

Here's a new version of "Rock Salt And Nails", an outtake from "The
Basement Tapes" album. This version has complete lyrics and the correct
author of the song. Oh esteemed OLGA maintainers, please delete the old
version and replace it with this...

- Brian

ROCK SALT AND NAILS by Bruce "Utah" Phillips

As arranged by Bob Dylan
Transcription by Brian Davies ([email protected])
Attribution and lyric help from Peter Stone Brown ([email protected])

[C#] [C#] [F#] [C#]

On the banks of the [C#] river, where the willows hang [C#] down,
Where the wild birds all [A#m] warble with a low moaning [C#] sound,
Down in the [A#m] hollow where the water runs [C#] cold,
It's there I have [F#] listened to the lies that you [C#] told.

Now I lie on my [C#] bed and I see your sweet [C#] face.
The past I re[A#m]member, time cannot e[C#]rase.
The letters you [A#m] wrote me were written in [C#] shame,
And I know that your [F#] conscience still echos my [C#] pain.

Now the nights are so [C#] long, my sorrow runs [C#] deep.
Nothing is [A#m] worse than a night without [C#] sleep.
I walk out a[A#m]lone, I look at the [C#] sky,
Too empty to [F#] sing, too lonesome to [C#] cry.

Now if the ladies were [C#] blackbirds and the ladies were [C#] thrushes,
I'd lie there for [A#m] hours in the chilly cold [C#m] marshes.
If the ladies were [A#m] squirrels with them high bushy [C#] tails,
I'd fill up my [F#] shotgun with rock salt and [C#] nails.

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