| G | C | G | C | G |
I've | been to | wild Mon | tana, I | went there in a | storm |
| C | Bb | F | C |
My boots were | Texas | leather, | mm, My Levis wet and | torn |
| G | C | G | G | C |
I | loved it | in Mon | tana, I | loved it in the | storm |
| G | C | Bb | F | C |
I | think I'm gonna | cross that | river, | mm, I just might be | reborn |
| C | Bb | F | C F C |
| New York, New York, winter, | sixty-one, | taking me a city ride | |
| Bb | F | G | C |
Somebody tall must of | put out the light, cause it | got real dark out | side | |
| G | C | Bb |
| And I | never saw the sun until | seventy-one |
| C | F | C | F C |
But I | never gave | up the | fight | |
| Bb |
And I sure was glad when I | saw the dawn |
| F |
And | somebody turned on the light |
| tacet | C | F C F C |
| Somebody turned on the | light | |
| Dm | F | C | F |
Women, wine, and | fast red cars, well, I | couldn't see to read the | signs | |
| C | Bb | F | G | C G |
| Somebody said, "Whose | life is this?" I | said that it can't be | mine | |
| F C G C G Eb Ab Eb Bb F Bb F C |
| |
| C | Bb | F | C | F |
When the | world is wrong, you'd better | right yourself, it'll | make the dark clouds | fly | |
| C | Bb | F | G | C |
| Nobody tall can | put out the light, Just | don't let the spirit | die | |
| G | C | Bb |
| If you | never see the sun till | ninety-one, |
| C | C | F |
Don't-cha | never give up the | fight | |
| C | Bb |
| Sure be glad when you | see the dawn, |
| F |
And | somebody turns on the light |
| C | F C F C |
Somebody turns on the | light | |
Created 2009 Sept 12 11:13
This is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the song.
You may only use this for private study, scholarship, or research.