Throw a capo on the third fret and this should sound about right.
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Hardest work that ever I done, bent beneath that burnin¡¯ sun
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Haulin¡¯ that tobacco ¡®round to cure
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How we chopped that wicked weed ¡®till our hands and fingers bleed
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Workin¡¯ like a mule, maybe more
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We been farmin¡¯ on this land
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Since eighteen hundred ten
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Through flood and drought
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And pestilence and war
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Now I sure am sad to say
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That I¡¯ve lived to see this day
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When we don¡¯t grow tobacco
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¡®Round here no more
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We don¡¯t grow, we don¡¯t grow
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Oh, it¡¯s still the only work we¡¯ll ever know
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We don¡¯t grow, we don¡¯t grow
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We don¡¯t grow tobacco ¡®round here no more
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Granpa told me, this I know, change is comin¡¯, won¡¯t be slow
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Knockin¡¯ just like thunder at the door
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Fallow fields are all around, empty barns just fallin¡¯ down
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Iron weeds comin¡¯ up through the floor
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Once we growed it by the pound
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Now the kids all move to town
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And all that¡¯s left are elderly and poor
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Now I sure and sad to say
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That I¡¯ve lived to see the day
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When we don¡¯t grow tobacco
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¡®Round here no more
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We don¡¯t grow, we don¡¯t grow
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Oh, it¡¯s still the only work we¡¯ll ever know
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We don¡¯t grow, we don¡¯t grow
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We don¡¯t grow tobacco ¡®round here no more
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Yes, I sure am sad to say this way of life has gone away
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Now that we don¡¯t grow tobacco ¡®round here no more
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We don¡¯t grow tobacco ¡®round here no more
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We Don't Grow Tobacco
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Old Crow Medicine Show |