Chords for For An Old Kentucky Anarchist - Erik Petersen

This is about a beautiful woman _ [C] that I met once, _ worked on her garden, _ and then went
inside and she just [F#] cooked this vast spread, just all [C] sorts of fare, and that was our reward,
just meeting great people.
And this is a song about her.
It's called The Kentucky Anarchist. _ _
_ _ _ [G] _ _ _ [C] _ _
_ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [C] _ _ _ [G] _ [Am] _
_ _ [G] _ _ [F] _ _ _ [G] _
_ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ High upon a [F] forgotten mountain top lay a garden, untended [G] and dry.
_ [C] Twas a yard that [G] had failed [Am] children's feet, running [G] for the mother [C] long ago, [G] taught her
children how to fly.
_ _ [C] Within a simple cabin, [F] untouched by industrial hands, [Am] sat the aging mother [G] in her home.
_ [C] You can't escape the picture [G] frames, there's too many, she said.
[C] They keep [G] me from being [C] alone, [G] yeah.
[C] _ _ _ _ [Am] _ _
[G] _ _ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [C]
Edmund, she spoke, he was an [F] honest man, [Am] he worked hard to put [G] food on our plates.
[C] Well, we had more [F] babies than we had arms, we struggled all [Gm] our lives, but the [C] rewards were [G] great.
[C] And when my son [F] came home from the war, [Am] he rested his [G] head on my breast, and [C] said,
Ma, [G] I'm tired of being used and [Am] grinded down, I feel [C] so low, [G] can you make me feel like I'm
[C] _ [G] just_
[C] Said my best friend Trudy, [F] what a savage man, [Am] he wore her like a [G] mashed potato.
_ [C] For his only love was for the [F] bottle, she said, there's only [G] one thing left [C] for me to [G] do.
To [C] be wild once again, [F] to take back my life, [Am] to run away, set flames [G] to his truck.
_ [C] He won't ever know what [Am] he's been missing, [G] I did [F] every day, [G] joy, freedom, [D] that's that love.
[Am] _ _ _ [G] _
_ [C] _ [G] Yeah, [D] that's that love.
_ [Am] _ _ [G] _ _ _ [F] _ [G] _
_ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ So these are the stories [F] that this mother spoke to me.
As [Am] I brought her [G] garden back to grow, _ I was [D] rewarded with a warm meal.
Little tales never to be heard, some call it [G] poverty, but they'll [D] never know.
She said, oh, I got my stories and [Am] my folk guitar, my crops have all [G] come and gone away.
I got [C] a head full of recipes [F] and nice and toothpaste, and I [E] like to wake up and [F] greet the day.
I [C] got that backing from the race and [F] my children, [Am] from hugging my husband [G] so tight.
And [C] I never cared much [Am] for any government, [G] I [F] got my Jesus [G] where I feel the [C] time is right.
[G] Singing I'm the richest [C] I'll ever be, [G] I embrace the world I [D] have all around me.
[G] So sing a [F] dying song [Am] and slap your knee, [D] have a taste of true Anarchy.
[G] _ _ [Am] _ _ [G] _ _ [F] _ _
[G] _ _ [C] Anarchy.
[G] _ _ [Am] _ _
[G] _ _ [F] Anarchy.
_ [G] _ _ [C] _ _ _ [G] _ _ [C] _ _ _ _