Coyote chords

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
_ _ Joni Mitchell _ _ _ _ .
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
C _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
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_ No, _ _ _ Eb _ .
it's coyote G we just come from such difference at the C circumstance I'm up all night in the studio.
G Early on your.
_ F Russian out of rude near steel while the Sun is ascending.
C I'll just be getting home with my real Eb career.
No comprehend.
G They just how close to the bone in the C skin and the eyes.
And the lips you can get.
You G still feel so Bb alone.
And still F feel related.
Bb like F stations in some.
C Hit and run driver no Eb no racing away.
G You just C pick up a hitcher.
G prisoner of the C white line freeway.
You _ .
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
_ _ Eb saw a farmhouse burning down.
G In the middle of nowhere in the middle of the C night.
All right past that tragedy.
Here we G pulled into some roadhouse Bb lights F where a local band was playing.
Locals were a kickin and shakin C on the floor the next thing I know.
Eb That coyotes at my G door.
He pins me in a corner, and it won't take C no.
He drags me out on the dance floor G and we're dancing close and slow F now.
He's got a woman at home.
He's got another woman down the hall.
He seems to want C me anyway.
Why'd you have to get so Eb drunk.
Lead me C on that way.
G You just C pick up a G hitcher.
Prisoner of the white C lines on the freeway.
_ Looked _ _ _ _ .
_ _ _ _ _ _ Eb at coyote right in the G face.
On the road to belgium in my old C hometown.
He went running through the whiskers we.
G Chasing some prize F down and a hawk was playing with him.
Coyote was jumping straight up and C making passes.
It was a nice Eb just like yours under your dark G glasses.
Privately probing the public C rooms and peeking through keyholes in number.
G where the players.
_ Bb _ F _ And their pills and powders to get C them through this fashion, please.
No Eb regrets coyote.
I just get off up a ways.
G You just picked up a hitcher a prisoner of the white lines.
C on the freeway _ _ _ .
Coyotes _ _ _ _ _ _ .
_ _ Eb _ in the coffee shop.
G Staring a hole in C his scrambled eggs.
He picks up my scent on his finger.
While he's G watching the waitresses F late.
He's too far from the Bay of Monday.
and apples and C eagles and tide.
the air Eb-conditioned cubicles.
And the carbon ribbon C rise are spelling it out.
So clear either.
He's gonna have to stand and fight.
G Or take off out of F here.
To run away myself.
To run away and wrestle with C my ego.
_ Eb And with this flame.
G You put her in this eskimo.
In this hitcher.
in this C prisoner.
of the fine white lines.
G of the C white lines.
On the free _ Free _ .
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_ _ C _ _ _ _ _ _ .
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_ N _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .