Intro
Fm
Dm
[Verse 1]
Dm
Fog dangling thick
Dm
Can't see the right road, streets are sick
Dm
The eight day mill it might grind slow
A# A7 A N.C.
But it grinds fine, yeah
[Chorus]
N.D. Cm
Indian rope man, while looking on
Dm
Tells common clay he's heavenly born
Dm
Retired layman looks on in scorn
A#
With a transplanted heart
A Asus4 A7
Kiss him quick, he has to part
[Verse 2]
A Dm
Indian road man he sees the times
Dm
Splitting loose the edge of minds
Dm A# A
He catches losers in his line, in his line, yeah
Dm
Kiss him quick, he has to part
[Organ Solo]
Dm Em7 F Em Dm7 Em7 F
Em Dm7 Em7 F Em Dm7
Em7 F Em7 G Asus4 A7
[Verse 3]
A Dm A
As the fog dangling thick
Dm Dm7 Dm
Can't see the right road, streets are sick
A#
The eight day mill it might grind slow
A N.C.
But it grinds fine, yeah
[Chorus]
N.D. Cm
Indian rope man, while looking on
Dm
Tells common clay he's heavenly born
Dm
Retired layman looks on in scorn
A#
With a transplanted heart
A Dm
Kiss him quick, he has to part
Dm
Oh, yeah