Biografía:
Dave Rawlings Machine is a collaboration between American guitarist and singer David Rawlings and his longtime musical partner American singer-songwriter Gillian Welch.
The only album to date is A Friend of a Friend, released in November 2009. Rawlings recorded the album in Nashville, and produced it himself. Co-writers and musicians on the album include Welch, members of Old Crow Medicine Show, Bright Eyes, and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Read more on Last.fm
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
"The Trip" - Dave Rawlings Machine - Nashville Obsolete - 2015
Transcribed by wranglingoutlaw
Intro - | G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
Whistles blowing, people get on trains
G
Without knowing where They're going
G C
Someone's Daughter, someone's Sister,
G
someone's Teacher going down the road
C
With a body, a handkerchief,
G
And a hatchet from an unspeakable crime
D
But there's no one waiting for Them,
G
There's no judgement down the line
G C
Banjos ring and chickens squall,
G
And little babies crow
G C
The winter leaves, and the spring unwinds,
G
And summer comes again You know
C
Pink is the colour of My true love's dress,
G
And black is the colour of Her heart
D
But I could never leave old Virgini',
C G
And so it never parts
G C
Ebony face, ebony nails,
G
Ebony coffin on the rails
G C
Moving south, C-O-D,
G
Going home to mother
C
Some said for valor, for glory,
G
for treasure, for pride
D G
Sometimes brother hates brother
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
G C
My boots are cracked with road dirt and asphalt,
G
Spit, and broken dreams
G C
Chewing gum and safety pins,
G
All what hold Me in at the seams
C G
My pegs are loose, my screws too tightly wound to get in tune
D C G
But I still try sometimes on those golden summer afternoons
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
There's a picture of an old black man,
G
In a beaver hat
G C
He wears a hidden smile
G
And a pair of white spats
C G
Don't pretend You didn't notice His stare
D C G
You're edgy, and sweating, and loaded for bear
G C
The skeletons dance tonight,
G
Bring Your bottle and Your boots
G C
And Your mandolin that Bianca -
G
Alatorre tried to shoot
C G
Oh but what's a bullet hole or two between friends ?
D C G
And who can say when the well goes dry or where the story ends ?
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
Hotel lives and hotel wives
G
That come and go with the sheets
G
Ah, But what's a marriage
C G
If it can't be held up to kitchen heat?
C G
Once I knew each valley of that beautiful shore
D C G
But I don't go to the summer fair much anymore
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience says to roam
D C G
It's much too much to try to live a lie at home
G C
Your harmonica is blown baby,
G
Throw it away
G C
Your denim shirt is ragged
G
And Your dirty collar is frayed
C G
I tried to play My horn for You, but I couldn't seem to find a note
D C G
So I picked up pen and paper, and this is what I wrote
C G
Go take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| D | C | G | G | x7
| G | G | G ..
Transcribed by wranglingoutlaw
Intro - | G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
Whistles blowing, people get on trains
G
Without knowing where They're going
G C
Someone's Daughter, someone's Sister,
G
someone's Teacher going down the road
C
With a body, a handkerchief,
G
And a hatchet from an unspeakable crime
D
But there's no one waiting for Them,
G
There's no judgement down the line
G C
Banjos ring and chickens squall,
G
And little babies crow
G C
The winter leaves, and the spring unwinds,
G
And summer comes again You know
C
Pink is the colour of My true love's dress,
G
And black is the colour of Her heart
D
But I could never leave old Virgini',
C G
And so it never parts
G C
Ebony face, ebony nails,
G
Ebony coffin on the rails
G C
Moving south, C-O-D,
G
Going home to mother
C
Some said for valor, for glory,
G
for treasure, for pride
D G
Sometimes brother hates brother
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
G C
My boots are cracked with road dirt and asphalt,
G
Spit, and broken dreams
G C
Chewing gum and safety pins,
G
All what hold Me in at the seams
C G
My pegs are loose, my screws too tightly wound to get in tune
D C G
But I still try sometimes on those golden summer afternoons
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
There's a picture of an old black man,
G
In a beaver hat
G C
He wears a hidden smile
G
And a pair of white spats
C G
Don't pretend You didn't notice His stare
D C G
You're edgy, and sweating, and loaded for bear
G C
The skeletons dance tonight,
G
Bring Your bottle and Your boots
G C
And Your mandolin that Bianca -
G
Alatorre tried to shoot
C G
Oh but what's a bullet hole or two between friends ?
D C G
And who can say when the well goes dry or where the story ends ?
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| G | C | G | G |
| G | C | G | G |
| C | C | G | G |
| D | D | G | G |
G C
Hotel lives and hotel wives
G
That come and go with the sheets
G
Ah, But what's a marriage
C G
If it can't be held up to kitchen heat?
C G
Once I knew each valley of that beautiful shore
D C G
But I don't go to the summer fair much anymore
C G
So take a trip wherever Your conscience says to roam
D C G
It's much too much to try to live a lie at home
G C
Your harmonica is blown baby,
G
Throw it away
G C
Your denim shirt is ragged
G
And Your dirty collar is frayed
C G
I tried to play My horn for You, but I couldn't seem to find a note
D C G
So I picked up pen and paper, and this is what I wrote
C G
Go take a trip wherever Your conscience has to roam
D C G
It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
| D | C | G | G | x7
| G | G | G ..
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