Words and music Bob Dylan
Released on Modern Times (2006)
Tabbed by Eyolf Østrem

Did you ever expect to hear a line like “The buying power of the proletariat’s gone down” in a song lyric? Way to go, Bobby! In a straight line from Ballad of Hollis Brown, through the ‘‘Farm Aid ‘‘initiative in the eighties, here’s one of the highlights of the album — but more than a political statement, it is also a love-ballad.

Musically, it is a close cousin of Cross the Green Mountain with which it shares the ever-descending bass line and some of the chord shadings that never manage to decide whether they’re major or minor (and which minor they are!).

A stroke of genius is the G7 between the verses — the only place where this is actually a blues song.

“I say it, so it must be so.”

Capo 2nd fret (sounding key A major)

Chords:

The G/d in the second line (marked with *) below) can be played in many different ways, in addition to the plain xx0003. A well-sounding solution, which captures the f# (sounding: g#) in the strings, is to play it as 354000 or 054000, and to play the preceeding Em as 075000. This gives a nice descent on the guitar neck down to the C in the next measure (-75— -54— -32—).

D/f#        200232 or xx4030
Em          022000 or 075000
Gmaj7       354000
Em9         054000
D9          xx0210
G7          320031

  G                 D'/f#             Em                G/d
  :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .
|-----------------|(0)--------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|---------3-------|-3---------3-----|-3-0---1-0-------|-----0-----0-----|
|-----0-------0---|---------0-------|-----0-------2---|-0-----0---------|
|-----------------|-----0h4-----4---|-2-------2-------|-0-------0-------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-------------0-2-|
|-3---------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|

  Cadd9             G/b               Am(7)             D
  :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|---------3-------|-3-0-----0---0---|-1-----------0---|-----------------|
|-----0-------0---|-----0---------2-|---------------0-|-2---------------|
|-----------------|---------0-------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-3---------------|-----2-------2---|-0---------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-3---------------|-----------------|-----------------|

           G            D/f#
There's an evening haze settling over town,
Em                          G/d *)
Starlight by the edge of the creek
    C                        G/b
The buying power of the proletariat's gone down,
Am                          D
Money's getting shallow and weak

Well, the place I love best is a sweet memory
it's a new path that we trod
They say low wages are a reality
If we want to compete abroad    

My cruel weapons have been put on the shelf
Come sit down on my knee
You are dearer to me than myself
As you yourself can see
While I'm listening to the steel rails hum
Got both eyes tight shut
Just sitting here trying to keep the hunger from
Creeping it's way into my gut 

C                            G6/b
Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Am                    G
Bring me my boots and shoes
        C                            G/b
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Am                         D9           G7
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

  :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|
|-----------------|-------------6---|-----------------|---------6--------|
|---------7---7---|-7---7---7-5-----|-7-------7-------|-----7-5----------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|------------------|
                                                                     Well . . .

Well, I'm sailin' on back, ready for the long haul
Tossed by the winds and the seas
I'll drag 'em all down to hell and I'll stand 'em at the wall
I'll sell 'em to their enemies
I'm a-tryin' to feed my soul with thought
Gonna sleep off the rest of the day
Sometimes no one wants what you got
Sometimes you can't give it away 

Now the place is ringed with countless foes
Some of them may be deaf and dumb
No man, no woman knows
The hour that sorrow will come
In the dark I hear the night birds call
I can feel a lover's breath
I sleep in the kitchen with my feet in the hall
Sleep is like a temporary death 

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

  :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .
|-----------------|-----------------|---3-------------|-----------------|
|-----3-----------|-6---5-----------|-------------6---|-----------------|
|/4-------4---7-5-|---------7---5---|-4---------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|

Well, they burned my barn, and they stole my horse
I can't save a dime
I got to be careful, I don't want to be forced
Into a life of continual crime
I can see for myself that the sun is sinking
How I wish you were here to see
Tell me now, am I wrong in thinking
That you have forgotten me?

Now they worry and they hurry and they fuss and they fret
They waste your nights and days
Them I will forget
But you I'll remember always
Old memories of you to me have clung
You've wounded me with your words
Gonna have to straighten out your tongue
It's all true, everything you've heard

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues 

  :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .     :   .   .   .
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-----3---3---3\2-|-3---6-------4---|-3---------------|-----------------|
|/4---4---4---4\3-|-4---7-------5---|-4---------------|-----------------|
|/5---------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|
|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|-----------------|

In you, my friend, I find no blame
Wanna look in my eyes, please do
No one can ever claim
That I took up arms against you.
All across the peaceful sacred fields
They will lay you low
They'll break your horns and slash you with steel
I say it, so it must be so

Now I'm down on my luck and I'm black and blue
Gonna give you another chance
I'm all alone I'm expecting you
To lead me off in a cheerful dance
I got a brand new suit and a brand new wife
I can live on rice and beans
Some people never worked a day in their life
Don't know what work even means

Well, meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You could hang back or fight your best on the front line
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues