Chords for The Jimberella Kid (1996 Digital Remaster)
Tempo:
91.3 bpm
Chords used:
B
F#
E
C#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[E] [B]
[F#] [B] He rambled and he gambled, and fire burned in [F#] his veins.
He fought and swore and drank and danced, was [B] dishonored for his pains.
But he'd never cheated upon a friend, he lived by the [E] Bushman's Code.
And no man feared for [B] wife or child [F#] where Jim Birella [B] rode.
But when a native stockman was smashed against a [F#] tree,
He rode the forty miles for help through [B] a night like Ebeneez.
And none could ride beside him when the scrubbers made [E] their bid.
With whip and spur he [B] carved his name, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
[E] But who was it duff the [F#] clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone of [F#] course.
But [B] they have to find a scapegoat, for they can't find out [E] who did.
And they'll blame that wild [B] young stockman, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
[E]
[B] [F#] [B]
A thousand head of cattle camped by the [F#] Wilga Hole.
A surging restless flight he mobbed [B] five stockmen in control.
And riding up to see the herd, though her father [E] might forbid,
The squatter's [B] daughter rode [F#] beside the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
And when the loving couple rode by the [F#] Wilga Hole,
They stirred a dingo from the [B] creek and across the flat he stole.
It was then the new chum Jackaroo who rifled [E] from its sheep.
And unheeded [B] went the cry that [F#] ripped from Jim [B] Birella's teeth.
[E] But who was it [F#] duff the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
[B] But they have to find a scapegoat, and they can't find [E] out who did.
So they'll blame that [B] wild young stockman, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
[E] [B] [F#] [B]
The shot echoed across the flat as the dingo [F#] met his death.
And the pousing head of cattle [B] rose in a single breath.
They swept down in an avalanche of hooves and [E] horns and hides.
And for his [B] life and for his love [F#] did Jim [B] Birella ride.
Two horses in the race for life spurred on by [F#] rain and hill.
Stumbling on a fallen [B] tree the girl's mare began to reel.
Then hurled its rider from its back as to the [E] ground it slid.
And to her side [B] then swiftly left [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
He used his body as a shield to save his [F#] only love.
But the girl lay safe beneath him [B] as death reigned from above.
And now he sleeps forever out beneath the [E] Southern Cross.
And the squatter's [B] daughter sadly [F#] mourns the Jim [B] Birella's loss.
[E] But who was it duff [F#] the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
But [B] they'll have to find a scapegoat and blame someone in [E] his stead.
No more he'll be [B] dishonored, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella's dead.
[F#] The Jim [B] Birella's dead.
[F#] [B] He rambled and he gambled, and fire burned in [F#] his veins.
He fought and swore and drank and danced, was [B] dishonored for his pains.
But he'd never cheated upon a friend, he lived by the [E] Bushman's Code.
And no man feared for [B] wife or child [F#] where Jim Birella [B] rode.
But when a native stockman was smashed against a [F#] tree,
He rode the forty miles for help through [B] a night like Ebeneez.
And none could ride beside him when the scrubbers made [E] their bid.
With whip and spur he [B] carved his name, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
[E] But who was it duff the [F#] clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone of [F#] course.
But [B] they have to find a scapegoat, for they can't find out [E] who did.
And they'll blame that wild [B] young stockman, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
[E]
[B] [F#] [B]
A thousand head of cattle camped by the [F#] Wilga Hole.
A surging restless flight he mobbed [B] five stockmen in control.
And riding up to see the herd, though her father [E] might forbid,
The squatter's [B] daughter rode [F#] beside the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
And when the loving couple rode by the [F#] Wilga Hole,
They stirred a dingo from the [B] creek and across the flat he stole.
It was then the new chum Jackaroo who rifled [E] from its sheep.
And unheeded [B] went the cry that [F#] ripped from Jim [B] Birella's teeth.
[E] But who was it [F#] duff the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
[B] But they have to find a scapegoat, and they can't find [E] out who did.
So they'll blame that [B] wild young stockman, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
[E] [B] [F#] [B]
The shot echoed across the flat as the dingo [F#] met his death.
And the pousing head of cattle [B] rose in a single breath.
They swept down in an avalanche of hooves and [E] horns and hides.
And for his [B] life and for his love [F#] did Jim [B] Birella ride.
Two horses in the race for life spurred on by [F#] rain and hill.
Stumbling on a fallen [B] tree the girl's mare began to reel.
Then hurled its rider from its back as to the [E] ground it slid.
And to her side [B] then swiftly left [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
He used his body as a shield to save his [F#] only love.
But the girl lay safe beneath him [B] as death reigned from above.
And now he sleeps forever out beneath the [E] Southern Cross.
And the squatter's [B] daughter sadly [F#] mourns the Jim [B] Birella's loss.
[E] But who was it duff [F#] the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
But [B] they'll have to find a scapegoat and blame someone in [E] his stead.
No more he'll be [B] dishonored, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella's dead.
[F#] The Jim [B] Birella's dead.
Key:
B
F#
E
C#
B
F#
E
C#
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ [B] _
_ [F#] _ _ [B] _ _ He rambled and he gambled, and fire burned in [F#] his veins.
He fought and swore and drank and danced, was [B] dishonored for his pains.
But he'd never cheated upon a friend, he lived by the [E] Bushman's Code.
And no man feared for [B] wife or child [F#] where Jim Birella [B] rode. _
But when a native stockman was smashed against a [F#] tree,
He rode the forty miles for help through [B] a night like Ebeneez.
And none could ride beside him when the scrubbers made [E] their bid.
With whip and spur he [B] carved his name, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
_ _ [E] But who was it duff the [F#] clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone of [F#] course.
_ But [B] they have to find a scapegoat, for they can't find out [E] who did.
And they'll blame that wild [B] young stockman, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
_ _ _ [E] _
_ [B] _ _ [F#] _ _ [B] _ _ _
A thousand head of cattle camped by the [F#] Wilga Hole.
A surging restless flight he mobbed [B] five stockmen in control.
And riding up to see the herd, though her father [E] might forbid,
The squatter's [B] daughter rode [F#] beside the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
_ And when the loving couple rode by the [F#] Wilga Hole,
They stirred a dingo from the [B] creek and across the flat he stole.
It was then the new chum Jackaroo who rifled [E] from its sheep.
And unheeded [B] went the cry that [F#] ripped from Jim [B] Birella's teeth.
_ [E] But who was it [F#] duff the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
_ [B] But they have to find a scapegoat, and they can't find [E] out who did.
So they'll blame that [B] wild young stockman, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid. _
_ [E] _ _ [B] _ _ [F#] _ _ [B] _
_ _ The shot echoed across the flat as the dingo [F#] met his death.
And the pousing head of cattle [B] rose in a single breath.
They swept down in an avalanche of hooves and [E] horns and hides.
And for his [B] life and for his love [F#] did Jim [B] Birella ride.
_ Two horses in the race for life spurred on by [F#] rain and hill.
Stumbling on a fallen [B] tree the girl's mare began to reel.
Then hurled its rider from its back as to the [E] ground it slid.
And to her side [B] then swiftly left [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
_ _ He used his body as a shield to save his [F#] only love.
But the girl lay safe beneath him [B] as death reigned from above.
And now he sleeps forever out beneath the [E] Southern Cross.
And the squatter's [B] daughter sadly [F#] mourns the Jim [B] Birella's loss. _ _
[E] But who was it duff [F#] the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
_ But [B] they'll have to find a scapegoat and blame someone in [E] his stead.
No more he'll be [B] dishonored, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella's dead.
[F#] The Jim [B] Birella's dead. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [F#] _ _ [B] _ _ He rambled and he gambled, and fire burned in [F#] his veins.
He fought and swore and drank and danced, was [B] dishonored for his pains.
But he'd never cheated upon a friend, he lived by the [E] Bushman's Code.
And no man feared for [B] wife or child [F#] where Jim Birella [B] rode. _
But when a native stockman was smashed against a [F#] tree,
He rode the forty miles for help through [B] a night like Ebeneez.
And none could ride beside him when the scrubbers made [E] their bid.
With whip and spur he [B] carved his name, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
_ _ [E] But who was it duff the [F#] clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone of [F#] course.
_ But [B] they have to find a scapegoat, for they can't find out [E] who did.
And they'll blame that wild [B] young stockman, [F#] the Jim Birella [B] Kid.
_ _ _ [E] _
_ [B] _ _ [F#] _ _ [B] _ _ _
A thousand head of cattle camped by the [F#] Wilga Hole.
A surging restless flight he mobbed [B] five stockmen in control.
And riding up to see the herd, though her father [E] might forbid,
The squatter's [B] daughter rode [F#] beside the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
_ And when the loving couple rode by the [F#] Wilga Hole,
They stirred a dingo from the [B] creek and across the flat he stole.
It was then the new chum Jackaroo who rifled [E] from its sheep.
And unheeded [B] went the cry that [F#] ripped from Jim [B] Birella's teeth.
_ [E] But who was it [F#] duff the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
_ [B] But they have to find a scapegoat, and they can't find [E] out who did.
So they'll blame that [B] wild young stockman, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid. _
_ [E] _ _ [B] _ _ [F#] _ _ [B] _
_ _ The shot echoed across the flat as the dingo [F#] met his death.
And the pousing head of cattle [B] rose in a single breath.
They swept down in an avalanche of hooves and [E] horns and hides.
And for his [B] life and for his love [F#] did Jim [B] Birella ride.
_ Two horses in the race for life spurred on by [F#] rain and hill.
Stumbling on a fallen [B] tree the girl's mare began to reel.
Then hurled its rider from its back as to the [E] ground it slid.
And to her side [B] then swiftly left [F#] the Jim [B] Birella Kid.
_ _ He used his body as a shield to save his [F#] only love.
But the girl lay safe beneath him [B] as death reigned from above.
And now he sleeps forever out beneath the [E] Southern Cross.
And the squatter's [B] daughter sadly [F#] mourns the Jim [B] Birella's loss. _ _
[E] But who was it duff [F#] the clean skins?
[B] Who was it stole the horse?
[C#] Who was it shot the squatter's bull?
They'll blame someone [F#] of course.
_ But [B] they'll have to find a scapegoat and blame someone in [E] his stead.
No more he'll be [B] dishonored, [F#] the Jim [B] Birella's dead.
[F#] The Jim [B] Birella's dead. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _