Chords for Johnny Russell "40 Acres Of Hell"
Tempo:
77.8 bpm
Chords used:
D
Eb
G
C
F
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[Em] I was born in North Mississippi on 40 rocky acres of ground.
We froze in the winter, burned up the summer, and starved the whole year round.
Every year we planted, but we couldn't raise nothing but some rotten cotton we couldn't sell.
It got to be where [C] Papa called our little [D] place, 40 rocky [G] acres of hell.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
Now [Em] Papa, he worked, Lord knows he worked.
We just never seemed to get ahead.
Supper many nights for us was nothing but some warmed over beans and cornbread.
Five hungry people in three little rooms, and life getting rougher every day.
It seemed that [G] the price of one year's good living was a [D] dollar more than Papa could pay.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
I [Fm] remember that day in my 14th year, I'd just gotten home from school.
My little sister Betsy, she was five years old, coming right into the house on a mule.
She cried, Mama, y'all better come quick, Papa done felonies hurt.
We buried Papa that [Db] Sunday, and the very next [Eb] Monday, things went [Ab] from bad to worse.
We were [Db] doing our time [Eb] on 40 acres [Ab] of hell.
[Gbm] Now my big brother Bert didn't take him very long, he got tired of plowing devil ground.
So he got him a gun, and he robbed a little store, and the law had to hunt him down.
They caught him up in Memphis, and Bert made him shoot, but I've heard a lot of people that say,
Your big brother [D] Bert didn't do it for the money, [E] he just [A] had to get away.
From a [D] doing this time, [E] on 40 [A] acres of hell.
[Gm] Now many years have passed, and Mama, she's gone, she's with Papa and Bert.
My little sister Betsy married a sailman, and moved out west to Fort Worth.
Here I sit on these 40 acres, raising rotten cotton I can't sell.
So good Lord, when [Eb] I die, you gotta take me to [F] heaven.
I've done my [Bb] time in hell.
Been [Eb] doing my time, [F] on 40 [Bb] acres of hell.
I've been doing [Eb] my time, [F] on 40 acres [Bb] of hell.
We froze in the winter, burned up the summer, and starved the whole year round.
Every year we planted, but we couldn't raise nothing but some rotten cotton we couldn't sell.
It got to be where [C] Papa called our little [D] place, 40 rocky [G] acres of hell.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
Now [Em] Papa, he worked, Lord knows he worked.
We just never seemed to get ahead.
Supper many nights for us was nothing but some warmed over beans and cornbread.
Five hungry people in three little rooms, and life getting rougher every day.
It seemed that [G] the price of one year's good living was a [D] dollar more than Papa could pay.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
I [Fm] remember that day in my 14th year, I'd just gotten home from school.
My little sister Betsy, she was five years old, coming right into the house on a mule.
She cried, Mama, y'all better come quick, Papa done felonies hurt.
We buried Papa that [Db] Sunday, and the very next [Eb] Monday, things went [Ab] from bad to worse.
We were [Db] doing our time [Eb] on 40 acres [Ab] of hell.
[Gbm] Now my big brother Bert didn't take him very long, he got tired of plowing devil ground.
So he got him a gun, and he robbed a little store, and the law had to hunt him down.
They caught him up in Memphis, and Bert made him shoot, but I've heard a lot of people that say,
Your big brother [D] Bert didn't do it for the money, [E] he just [A] had to get away.
From a [D] doing this time, [E] on 40 [A] acres of hell.
[Gm] Now many years have passed, and Mama, she's gone, she's with Papa and Bert.
My little sister Betsy married a sailman, and moved out west to Fort Worth.
Here I sit on these 40 acres, raising rotten cotton I can't sell.
So good Lord, when [Eb] I die, you gotta take me to [F] heaven.
I've done my [Bb] time in hell.
Been [Eb] doing my time, [F] on 40 [Bb] acres of hell.
I've been doing [Eb] my time, [F] on 40 acres [Bb] of hell.
Key:
D
Eb
G
C
F
D
Eb
G
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Em] I was born in North Mississippi on 40 rocky acres of ground.
We froze in the winter, burned up the summer, and starved the whole year round.
Every year we planted, but we couldn't raise nothing but some rotten cotton we couldn't sell.
It got to be where [C] Papa called our little [D] place, 40 rocky [G] acres of hell.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
Now [Em] Papa, he worked, Lord knows he worked.
We just never seemed to get ahead.
Supper many nights for us was nothing but some warmed over beans and cornbread.
Five hungry people in three little rooms, and life getting rougher every day.
It seemed that [G] the price of one year's good living was a [D] dollar more than Papa could pay.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
_ I [Fm] remember that day in my 14th year, I'd just gotten home from school.
My little sister Betsy, she was five years old, coming right into the house on a mule.
She cried, Mama, y'all better come quick, Papa done felonies hurt.
We buried Papa that [Db] Sunday, and the very next [Eb] Monday, things went [Ab] from bad to worse.
We were [Db] doing our time [Eb] on 40 acres [Ab] of hell. _ _
[Gbm] Now my big brother Bert didn't take him very long, he got tired of plowing devil ground.
So he got him a gun, and he robbed a little store, and the law had to hunt him down.
They caught him up in Memphis, and Bert made him shoot, but I've heard a lot of people that say,
Your big brother [D] Bert didn't do it for the money, [E] he just [A] had to get away.
From a [D] doing this time, [E] on 40 [A] acres of hell. _ _
[Gm] Now many years have passed, and Mama, she's gone, she's with Papa and Bert.
My little sister Betsy married a sailman, and moved out west to Fort Worth.
Here I sit on these 40 acres, raising rotten cotton I can't sell.
So good Lord, when [Eb] I die, you gotta take me to [F] heaven.
I've done my [Bb] time in hell.
Been [Eb] doing my time, [F] on 40 [Bb] acres of hell.
_ I've been doing [Eb] my time, [F] on 40 acres [Bb] of hell. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Em] I was born in North Mississippi on 40 rocky acres of ground.
We froze in the winter, burned up the summer, and starved the whole year round.
Every year we planted, but we couldn't raise nothing but some rotten cotton we couldn't sell.
It got to be where [C] Papa called our little [D] place, 40 rocky [G] acres of hell.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
Now [Em] Papa, he worked, Lord knows he worked.
We just never seemed to get ahead.
Supper many nights for us was nothing but some warmed over beans and cornbread.
Five hungry people in three little rooms, and life getting rougher every day.
It seemed that [G] the price of one year's good living was a [D] dollar more than Papa could pay.
We were [C] doing our time [D] on 40 [G] acres of hell.
_ I [Fm] remember that day in my 14th year, I'd just gotten home from school.
My little sister Betsy, she was five years old, coming right into the house on a mule.
She cried, Mama, y'all better come quick, Papa done felonies hurt.
We buried Papa that [Db] Sunday, and the very next [Eb] Monday, things went [Ab] from bad to worse.
We were [Db] doing our time [Eb] on 40 acres [Ab] of hell. _ _
[Gbm] Now my big brother Bert didn't take him very long, he got tired of plowing devil ground.
So he got him a gun, and he robbed a little store, and the law had to hunt him down.
They caught him up in Memphis, and Bert made him shoot, but I've heard a lot of people that say,
Your big brother [D] Bert didn't do it for the money, [E] he just [A] had to get away.
From a [D] doing this time, [E] on 40 [A] acres of hell. _ _
[Gm] Now many years have passed, and Mama, she's gone, she's with Papa and Bert.
My little sister Betsy married a sailman, and moved out west to Fort Worth.
Here I sit on these 40 acres, raising rotten cotton I can't sell.
So good Lord, when [Eb] I die, you gotta take me to [F] heaven.
I've done my [Bb] time in hell.
Been [Eb] doing my time, [F] on 40 [Bb] acres of hell.
_ I've been doing [Eb] my time, [F] on 40 acres [Bb] of hell. _ _ _