A

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

2-я

3

3-я

2

4-я

1

5-я

6-я

Asus4

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

2-я

2

3-я

1

4-я

5-я

6-я

D

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

2

2-я

3

3-я

1

4-я

5-я

6-я

F#m/C#

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

1

2-я

1

3-я

1

4-я

4

5-я

3

6-я

Bm

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

1

2-я

2

3-я

3

4-я

5-я

6-я

G

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

3

2-я

3-я

4-я

5-я

1

6-я

2

E

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

2-я

3-я

1

4-я

3

5-я

2

6-я

Bm7

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

3

2-я

3-я

2

4-я

5-я

1

6-я

D/A

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

2

2-я

3

3-я

1

4-я

5-я

6-я

A/C#

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

4

2-я

1

3-я

1

4-я

1

5-я

2

6-я

D/B

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

3

2-я

3-я

2

4-я

5-я

1

6-я

F

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

1-я

1

2-я

1

3-я

2

4-я

3

5-я

6-я

1

"Tumbleweed Connection"
Country Comfort
(Music: Elton John; Lyrics: Bernie Taupin)

A    Asus4    A    Asus4
         A                         D
Soon the pines will be falling everywhere
F#m/C# Bm                      G           E
Village   children fight each other for a share
             A                  /B   /C#      D
And the six-o-nine goes roaring past the creek
            Bm7         E      D        A
Deacon Lee prepares his sermon for next week
I saw grandma yesterday down at the store
Well she's really going fine for eighty four
Well she asked me if sometime I'd fix her barn
Poor old girl she needs a hand to run the farm
         D                 E             A     D/A
And it's good old country comfort in my bones
A/C#      D                 E               A
Just the sweetest sound my ears have ever known
D/B  A/C#  D               E             A    G    F
Just an     old-fashioned feeling fully-grown
         Bm7          D                  A     D    G    D    A
Country comfort's any truck that's goin' home
Down at the well they've got a new machine
The foreman says it cuts man-power by fifteen
Yeah but that ain't natural well so old Clay would say
You see he's a horse-drawn man until his dying day
Now the old fat goose is flying cross the sticks
The hedgehog's done in clay between the bricks
And the rocking chair's creaking on the porch
Across the valley moves the herdsman with his torch