The Blizzard(Chords)

	        C               C7          F             C 
There's a blizard comming on, how I'm wishing I was home, 
       C                              G 
for my pony's lame, and he can hardly stand. 
       C               C7          F                    C 
Listen to that norther sigh, if we don't get home we'll die. 
         G                        Am 
But it's only seven miles to Mary Ann's. 
     G                        C 
It's only seven miles to Mary Ann's. 
 
        C                C7             F           C 
You can bet we're on her mind, for it's nearly supertime 
         C                               G 
and I'll bet there's hot bisquets in the pan. 
        C                     C7                   F              C 
Lord my hands feel like there froze, and there's a numbness in my toes. 
         G                            Am 
But it's only five more miles to Mary Ann's. 
     G                            C 
It's only five more miles to Mary Ann's. 
 
            C              C7           F              C 
That wind's howling and it seems mighty like a woman's scream. 
         C                            G 
And we'd best abe moving faster if we can. 
         C                C7             F               C 
Dan just think about that barn, with the hay so soft and warm. 
         G                       Am 
For it's only more miles to Mary Ann's, 
     G                             C 
It's only three more miles to Mary Ann's. 
 
 
(Talk--chord in background) 
Dan get up you ornery cuss, or you'll be the death of us. 
I'm so weary, but I'll help you if I can. 
Alright dan, perhaps it's best, if we stop a while and rest. 
For it's still a hundred yards to Mary Ann's. 
It's still a hundred yards to Mary Ann's. 
 
(Talk--chord in background.) 
Late that night the storm was gone, the found him there at dawn. 
He'd-a-made it but he just couldn't leave old Dan. 
Yes they found him there on the plains, hands froze to the reigns. 
He was just a hundred yards form Mary Ann's. 
        G                              C 
He was just a hundred yards from Mary Ann's.
	        

Written by Harlan Howard