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Ginseng Sullivan

Misc Country
Version1
90

Chords in this song

Strum
D-DU-UDU
 About  three miles from the Batelle yard
 From  the reverse curve on down
 Not  far south of the town depot
 Sullivan's  shack was found
 Back  on the higher ground.
 You  could see him every day
 Just  walking down the line
 With  his old brown sack across his back
 And  his long hair down  behind
 Speaking  his worried mind.
 cho:  It's a long way to the delta
   From the North Georgia hills
   A tote sack full of ginseng
  Won't  pay no travelling bills
   Now, I'm too  old to ride the rails
   Or thumb the  road alone
   So I guess I'll  never make it back  to home
   My muddy water  Mississippi  delta  home.
 The  winters here, they get too cold
 The  damp it makes me ill
 Can't  dig no roots in the mountain side
 With  the ground froze hard  and still
 Gotta  stay at the foot of the  hill.
 But  next summer, things turn right
 The  companies will pay high
 I'll  make enough money to pay my bills
 Bid  these mountains goodbye
 Then  he said with a sigh:
 See ya
 "And if one more person says to me, they can't stand the "twang," I think
  I just might gingerly poke 'em in the eye. This is not like eating okra."
  --Linda Ellis

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Readable chord sheet for Ginseng Sullivan by Misc Country

A[D]bout three miles from the Batelle yard

F[G]rom the reverse curve on down

N[D]ot far south of the town depot

S[G]ullivan's shack was fo[Bm]und

B[A]ack on the higher gr[D]ound.

Y[D]ou could see him every day

J[G]ust walking down the line

W[D]ith his old brown sack across his back

A[G]nd his long hair d[Bm]own behind

S[A]peaking his worried mi[D]nd.

c[D]ho: It's a long way to the delta

 [G]    From the North Georgia hills

 [D]    A tote sack full of ginseng

 [G]    [G7]Won't pay no travelling bills

 [C]    Now, I'm too[D] old to ride the rails

 [Em]    Or thumb the[A] road alone

 [D]    So I guess I'l[G]l never make it b[D]ack to home

 [D]    My muddy wat[G]er Mississipp[A]i delta[D] home.

T[D]he winters here, they get too cold

T[G]he damp it makes me ill

C[D]an't dig no roots in the mountain side

W[G]ith the ground froze ha[Bm]rd and still

G[A]otta stay at the foot of [D]the hill.

B[D]ut next summer, things turn right

T[G]he companies will pay high

I[D]'ll make enough money to pay my bills

B[G]id these mountains goodby[Bm]e

T[A]hen he said with a si[D]gh:

See ya

"And if one more person says to me, they can't stand the "twang," I think
 I just might gingerly poke 'em in the eye. This is not like eating okra."

                                                       --Linda Ellis

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