Brian Burns — Dont Tell Mama

Текст песни с аккордами

    	    	Вступление

[Chorus]

D          D/C#       D/B     D           G         A         D
Don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.
D                 D/C#        D/B        D          G                    A
I been dreamin' up lines and ringin' up rhymes and raisin' all kinds of hell.
G                         A                       D             Bm
Break Mama's heart if she saw me singin' with my hair in a ponytail,
G                         D                   G         A        D
So don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.


[Verse 1]

                 A                        G            A        D
I used to be a good ol' boy, a clean cut kid, Mama's pride and joy,
D                             G                A
Never stayed out late, never raised no kinda cane.
A                         G                      A                 D
Then I bought me an old guitar and started out pickin' in a smoky bar,
A                                                G                   A
If Mama finds out I've gone this far, she'll be hangin' her head in shame, so...


[Chorus]

D          D/C#       D/B     D           G         A         D
Don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.
D                 D/C#        D/B        D          G                    A
I been dreamin' up lines and ringin' up rhymes and raisin' all kinds of hell.
G                         A                       D             Bm
Break Mama's heart if she saw me singin' with my hair in a ponytail,
G                         D                   G         A        D
So don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.


[Verse 2]

A                                                       G           A       D
Mama loves her youngest son, but if she ever saw me on stage with Gary P. Nunn,
G                                           A
She's be plowin' up my corn with a double shovel,
G                                               A           D
But I love those neon lights, and those sexy, sultry Texas nights.
D                                                    G
If Mama finds out what I'm doin' with my life, good God, there's gonna be
A
trouble, so...


[Chorus]

D          D/C#       D/B     D           G         A         D
Don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.
D                 D/C#        D/B        D          G                    A
I been dreamin' up lines and ringin' up rhymes and raisin' all kinds of hell.
G                         A                       D             Bm
Break Mama's heart if she saw me singin' with my hair in a ponytail,
G                         D                   G         A        D
So don't tell Mama I'm a guitar picker, she thinks I'm just in jail.		
    

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