You Aint Goin Nowhere

{title:You Ain't Goin' Nowhere}

{st:Bob Dylan}

Clouds so swift, [Em]rain won't lift,

Gates won't close, the [D]railing's froze.

Get your mind off [Em]winter time,

You ain't goin' no[D]where.

{c:Chorus:}

[D]Oooo, Eeeee, [Em]Ride me high,

[G]One of these days my [D]man's gonna come.

Oh Lord, [Em]we gonna fly,

[G]Down in the easy [D]chair.

I don't care how many letters they sent,

Morning came and morning went.

Pick up your money and pack your tent,

But we still ain't goin' nowhere.

{c:Chorus.}

Buy me a flute and a gun that shoots,

Tailgates and substitutes,

Strap yourself with the tree with roots,

You ain't goin' nowhere.

{c:Chorus.}

Ghengis Khan he could not keep

All his kings supplied with reap.

Climb that hill no matter how steep,

We still ain't goin' nowhere.

{c:Chorus.}

#

# Submitted to the ftp.nevada.edu:/pub/guitar archives

# by Steve Putz <putz@parc.xerox.com>

# 7 September 1992