A G A
Mud colored dogs guarding shot gun shacks,
G D G A
Red door on the green Cadillac
A G A
Hot wind blowing smoke through graveyard streets
G D G A
A face I recognize staring back through me
G D A
Aint going down to the well no more, Believe I had my fill
G D
Work that ground til I done got sore,
A
Aint going back down to the well
A G A
Played that dive twenty some odd years
G D G A
Through the faith and the whiskey, you face your fears
A G D
I remember the night you broke down to the core,
G D G A
You threw a black Stratocaster through a plate glass door
G D A
Aint going down to the well no more, Believe I had my fill
G D
Gonna work that ground til I done got sore,
A
Aint going back down to the well
A G A G D G A
A G D G D G A
G D A
Aint going down to the well no more, Believe I had my fill
G D
Gonna Work that ground til I done got sore
A
Aint going back down to the well
A G A
See that woman in the corner, brother she knows
G D G A
Every inch of my body, every mile of my soul
A G D
We used to shake em on down to the blazing day
G D G A
Whats she doing at night watching me that way
G D A
Aint going down to the well no more, believe I had my fill
G D
Gonna work that ground til I done got sore,
A
Aint going back down to the well
G D A
Aint going down to the well no more, believe I had my fill
G D
Gonna work that ground til I done got sore,
A
Aint going back down to the well
A G A G D G A