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AThe speculators made their money
On the blood you shed Em
Your MamaG's pulled the sheets up off Dyour bed A
The profiteers on Jane Street
Sold your shoes and clothes Em
GAin't nobody talkinDg 'cause everybody knows A
GWe pulled your cycle up at the garage D
And poliGshed up the chrome A
Our GypsGy biker'sD comin'G home A
Sister Mary sits with your colors
Brother John is drunk and gone Em
GThis whole town's been rousted D
Which side you on A
The favored march up over the hill
In some fools parade Em
Shoutin' victoGry for the righteouDs
There ain'Gt much here but Dgraves A
GAin't nobody talkinD'
We're just waitinG' on the phone A
Our GypGsy biker iDs comin' hGome A
AEmGDA
BmWe rode her into the foothillGs
Bobby broughDt the gasoline A
We stood 'round thBme circle
As she lit Gthe ravine D
The sprBming high desert wiGnd
Rushed down on us all the way bacDk home A
DGA
ATo the dead it don't matter much
'Bout who's wrong or right Em
You askeGd me that question I diDdn't get it right A
You slipped into your darkness
Now all that remains Em
GIs my love for you brotherD
GLying still and unchangedA
GTo them that threw Dyou away
GYou ain't notDhin' but gone A
Our GypGsy biker iDs comin' hGome A
GNow I'm out countin' white lineDs
Countin' whitGe lines and getting stoned A
My GypGsy biker D is comGing home. A
Instrumental: A Em G D A } x2 (background: La La La La .....)
AEmG
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