Chords for Archie Fisher sings "Ontario Dust" at an Old Songs, Inc. concert.
Tempo:
102.75 bpm
Chords used:
Ab
Bbm
Db
Ebm
Eb
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Jam Along & Learn...
[Ab]
In the grey of the gloaming, I float with my lights, as the borderland settles to a long [Db] winter's night.
[Ab] There's a glitter [Bbm] of frost, [Ab] and a crunch to my [Bbm] wheels [Ab] as I turn on the back [Bbm] road from.
[Ebm] [Ab] The old dog that welcomes me, quiet for the [Db] door, [Ab] there's a stack of brown envelopes strewn [Db] on the floor.
[Ab] And the stone cottage echoes to the click of [Bbm] my heels, [Ab] and the message light blinks [Bbm] on the phone.
[Ab] The last mile I travelled [Cm] to this journey's end, [Bbm] was crowded [Ebm] with the [Ab] faces and the voices of friends.
There were bronco riders and [Cm] rodeo shoots, [Ab] and [Bbm] I still got [Eb] a jerry-go [Ebm] dust [Ab] on my boots.
[Fm]
[Ab] And I emptied my suitcase for the washing machine, with traces of places that both [Db] we have been.
[Ab] It's too [Bbm] late for [Ab] coffee, I pour [Bbm] out the grounds [Ab] and sit down by a cold [Bbm] empty [Eb] fire.
[Ab] I can hear in the dismalness, the surf of the road, the swish of the tyres and the [Db] rumbling load.
[Ab] And the sweet silvery waters of the [Bbm] Galleran down, [Ab] and a half empty moon is [Bbm] black and [Ebm] tired.
[Db] Six hours [Ab] ahead of Canadian time, [Bbm] and my pockets still [Ab] jingle with loonies and [Db] dimes.
I'm back in my [Ab] homeland, I'm still on my roots, [Bbm] but I've still got [Eb] a jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
[Fm]
[Ab] Now it's not on the journey, or where you arrive, it's the place that you're leaving, and if you can [Db] survive.
[Ab] All the good times and bad times you'll find [Bbm] in [Ab] despair, when you're lonesome and lost [Bbm] in a song.
[Ebm] [Ab] And away to the north of the lakey shore, there's a box of crisp apples by an old [Db] farmhouse door.
[Ab] And the wood [Bbm] smoke and coffee [Ab] are sweet in the air, and the radio's rambling [Bbm] [Eb] along.
[Db] A creep of old leather [Ab] is whispering to me, what I'd like to wear and where I'd like to be.
[Db] I'd rather have Wranglers [Ab] than Armani suits, [Bbm] and there's a [Eb] blue jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
Now there is no forever, or never again, there's a here and a there, there's an hour [Db] and a bend.
[Ab] At the Altik [Bbm] Archa, [Ab] of the moon [Bbm] and the [Ab] sun and the stars, as the world [Bbm] rolls [Ebm] around.
[Ab] On the bright woods this morning, I walk in the field, a horse at my shoulder and a dog [Db] at my heel.
[Ab] And I pull down my cap, to hide from [Bbm] the sun, [Ab] as I melt in the frost.
[Bbm] I [Eb] [Ab] still feel [Db] the stirrups, [Ab] and the slack in the rain, [Db] as the cutting [Ab] board rolls back and tussles her mane.
As the clear border dew of the green [Cm] grassy [Fm] heaps, has [Bbm] washed the [Ebm] jerry-go dust.
[Ab] [Fm] [Ab] [Fm]
[Ab]
[Abm] [N]
In the grey of the gloaming, I float with my lights, as the borderland settles to a long [Db] winter's night.
[Ab] There's a glitter [Bbm] of frost, [Ab] and a crunch to my [Bbm] wheels [Ab] as I turn on the back [Bbm] road from.
[Ebm] [Ab] The old dog that welcomes me, quiet for the [Db] door, [Ab] there's a stack of brown envelopes strewn [Db] on the floor.
[Ab] And the stone cottage echoes to the click of [Bbm] my heels, [Ab] and the message light blinks [Bbm] on the phone.
[Ab] The last mile I travelled [Cm] to this journey's end, [Bbm] was crowded [Ebm] with the [Ab] faces and the voices of friends.
There were bronco riders and [Cm] rodeo shoots, [Ab] and [Bbm] I still got [Eb] a jerry-go [Ebm] dust [Ab] on my boots.
[Fm]
[Ab] And I emptied my suitcase for the washing machine, with traces of places that both [Db] we have been.
[Ab] It's too [Bbm] late for [Ab] coffee, I pour [Bbm] out the grounds [Ab] and sit down by a cold [Bbm] empty [Eb] fire.
[Ab] I can hear in the dismalness, the surf of the road, the swish of the tyres and the [Db] rumbling load.
[Ab] And the sweet silvery waters of the [Bbm] Galleran down, [Ab] and a half empty moon is [Bbm] black and [Ebm] tired.
[Db] Six hours [Ab] ahead of Canadian time, [Bbm] and my pockets still [Ab] jingle with loonies and [Db] dimes.
I'm back in my [Ab] homeland, I'm still on my roots, [Bbm] but I've still got [Eb] a jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
[Fm]
[Ab] Now it's not on the journey, or where you arrive, it's the place that you're leaving, and if you can [Db] survive.
[Ab] All the good times and bad times you'll find [Bbm] in [Ab] despair, when you're lonesome and lost [Bbm] in a song.
[Ebm] [Ab] And away to the north of the lakey shore, there's a box of crisp apples by an old [Db] farmhouse door.
[Ab] And the wood [Bbm] smoke and coffee [Ab] are sweet in the air, and the radio's rambling [Bbm] [Eb] along.
[Db] A creep of old leather [Ab] is whispering to me, what I'd like to wear and where I'd like to be.
[Db] I'd rather have Wranglers [Ab] than Armani suits, [Bbm] and there's a [Eb] blue jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
Now there is no forever, or never again, there's a here and a there, there's an hour [Db] and a bend.
[Ab] At the Altik [Bbm] Archa, [Ab] of the moon [Bbm] and the [Ab] sun and the stars, as the world [Bbm] rolls [Ebm] around.
[Ab] On the bright woods this morning, I walk in the field, a horse at my shoulder and a dog [Db] at my heel.
[Ab] And I pull down my cap, to hide from [Bbm] the sun, [Ab] as I melt in the frost.
[Bbm] I [Eb] [Ab] still feel [Db] the stirrups, [Ab] and the slack in the rain, [Db] as the cutting [Ab] board rolls back and tussles her mane.
As the clear border dew of the green [Cm] grassy [Fm] heaps, has [Bbm] washed the [Ebm] jerry-go dust.
[Ab] [Fm] [Ab] [Fm]
[Ab]
[Abm] [N]
100% ➙ 103BPM
Ab
Bbm
Db
Ebm
Eb
Ab
Bbm
Db
[Ab] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ In the grey of the gloaming, I float with my lights, as the borderland settles to a long [Db] winter's night.
[Ab] There's a glitter [Bbm] of frost, [Ab] and a crunch to my [Bbm] wheels [Ab] as I turn on the back [Bbm] road from.
[Ebm] [Ab] The old dog that welcomes me, quiet for the [Db] door, [Ab] there's a stack of brown envelopes strewn [Db] on the floor.
[Ab] And the stone cottage echoes to the click of [Bbm] my heels, [Ab] and the message light blinks [Bbm] on the phone.
[Ab] The last mile I travelled [Cm] to this journey's end, [Bbm] was crowded [Ebm] with the [Ab] faces and the voices of friends.
There were bronco riders and [Cm] rodeo shoots, [Ab] and [Bbm] I still got [Eb] a jerry-go [Ebm] dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _
_ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _ And I emptied my suitcase for the washing machine, with traces of places that both [Db] we have been.
[Ab] It's too [Bbm] late for [Ab] coffee, I pour [Bbm] out the grounds [Ab] and sit down by a cold [Bbm] empty [Eb] fire.
[Ab] I can hear in the dismalness, the surf of the road, the swish of the tyres and the [Db] rumbling load.
[Ab] And the sweet silvery waters of the [Bbm] Galleran down, [Ab] and a half empty moon is [Bbm] black and [Ebm] tired.
_ [Db] Six hours [Ab] ahead of Canadian time, [Bbm] and my pockets still [Ab] jingle with loonies and [Db] dimes.
I'm back in my [Ab] homeland, I'm still on my roots, [Bbm] but I've still got [Eb] a jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _
_ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _ Now it's not on the journey, or where you arrive, it's the place that you're leaving, and if you can [Db] _ survive.
[Ab] All the good times and bad times you'll find [Bbm] in [Ab] despair, when you're lonesome and lost [Bbm] in a song.
[Ebm] [Ab] And away to the north of the lakey shore, there's a box of crisp apples by an old [Db] farmhouse door.
[Ab] And the wood [Bbm] smoke and coffee [Ab] are sweet in the air, and the radio's rambling [Bbm] [Eb] along.
[Db] A creep of old leather [Ab] is whispering to me, what I'd like to wear and where I'd like to be.
[Db] I'd rather have Wranglers [Ab] than Armani suits, [Bbm] and there's a [Eb] blue jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Now there is no forever, or never again, there's a here and a there, there's an hour [Db] and a bend.
[Ab] At the Altik [Bbm] Archa, [Ab] of the moon [Bbm] and the [Ab] sun and the stars, as the world [Bbm] rolls [Ebm] around.
[Ab] On the bright woods this morning, I walk in the field, a horse at my shoulder and a dog [Db] at my heel.
[Ab] And I pull down my cap, to hide from [Bbm] the sun, [Ab] as I melt in the frost.
[Bbm] I [Eb] [Ab] still feel [Db] the stirrups, [Ab] and the slack in the rain, [Db] as the cutting [Ab] board rolls back and tussles her mane.
As the clear border dew of the green [Cm] grassy [Fm] heaps, has [Bbm] washed the [Ebm] jerry-go dust.
[Ab] _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _ [Ab] _ _ [Fm] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _
[Abm] _ [N] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ In the grey of the gloaming, I float with my lights, as the borderland settles to a long [Db] winter's night.
[Ab] There's a glitter [Bbm] of frost, [Ab] and a crunch to my [Bbm] wheels [Ab] as I turn on the back [Bbm] road from.
[Ebm] [Ab] The old dog that welcomes me, quiet for the [Db] door, [Ab] there's a stack of brown envelopes strewn [Db] on the floor.
[Ab] And the stone cottage echoes to the click of [Bbm] my heels, [Ab] and the message light blinks [Bbm] on the phone.
[Ab] The last mile I travelled [Cm] to this journey's end, [Bbm] was crowded [Ebm] with the [Ab] faces and the voices of friends.
There were bronco riders and [Cm] rodeo shoots, [Ab] and [Bbm] I still got [Eb] a jerry-go [Ebm] dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _
_ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _ And I emptied my suitcase for the washing machine, with traces of places that both [Db] we have been.
[Ab] It's too [Bbm] late for [Ab] coffee, I pour [Bbm] out the grounds [Ab] and sit down by a cold [Bbm] empty [Eb] fire.
[Ab] I can hear in the dismalness, the surf of the road, the swish of the tyres and the [Db] rumbling load.
[Ab] And the sweet silvery waters of the [Bbm] Galleran down, [Ab] and a half empty moon is [Bbm] black and [Ebm] tired.
_ [Db] Six hours [Ab] ahead of Canadian time, [Bbm] and my pockets still [Ab] jingle with loonies and [Db] dimes.
I'm back in my [Ab] homeland, I'm still on my roots, [Bbm] but I've still got [Eb] a jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _
_ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _ Now it's not on the journey, or where you arrive, it's the place that you're leaving, and if you can [Db] _ survive.
[Ab] All the good times and bad times you'll find [Bbm] in [Ab] despair, when you're lonesome and lost [Bbm] in a song.
[Ebm] [Ab] And away to the north of the lakey shore, there's a box of crisp apples by an old [Db] farmhouse door.
[Ab] And the wood [Bbm] smoke and coffee [Ab] are sweet in the air, and the radio's rambling [Bbm] [Eb] along.
[Db] A creep of old leather [Ab] is whispering to me, what I'd like to wear and where I'd like to be.
[Db] I'd rather have Wranglers [Ab] than Armani suits, [Bbm] and there's a [Eb] blue jerry-go dust [Ab] on my boots.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Now there is no forever, or never again, there's a here and a there, there's an hour [Db] and a bend.
[Ab] At the Altik [Bbm] Archa, [Ab] of the moon [Bbm] and the [Ab] sun and the stars, as the world [Bbm] rolls [Ebm] around.
[Ab] On the bright woods this morning, I walk in the field, a horse at my shoulder and a dog [Db] at my heel.
[Ab] And I pull down my cap, to hide from [Bbm] the sun, [Ab] as I melt in the frost.
[Bbm] I [Eb] [Ab] still feel [Db] the stirrups, [Ab] and the slack in the rain, [Db] as the cutting [Ab] board rolls back and tussles her mane.
As the clear border dew of the green [Cm] grassy [Fm] heaps, has [Bbm] washed the [Ebm] jerry-go dust.
[Ab] _ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _ [Ab] _ _ [Fm] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _ _ _
[Abm] _ [N] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _