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Written by Bob Dylan. This is The Byrds version. G Am Clouds so swift, the rain won't lift C G The gates won't close, the railings froze Am Get your mind off wintertime C G You ain't going nowhere G Am Ooo-wee, ride me high C G Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Am Ooh, ooh, are we gonna fly C G Down in the easy chair G Am I don't care how many letters they sent C G The morning came and the morning went Am Pick up your money, pack up your tent, C G You ain't going nowhere G Am Ooo-wee, ride me high C G Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Am Ooh, ooh, are we gonna fly C G Down in the easy chair G Am Buy me a flute and a gun that shoots C G Tailgates and substitutes Am Strap yourself to the tree with roots C G You ain't going nowhere G Am Ooo-wee, ride me high C G Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Am Ooh, ooh, are we gonna fly C G Down in the easy chair G Am Gengis Khan he could not keep C G All his kings supplied with sleep Am We'll climb that hill no matter how steep C G When we get up to it G Am Ooo-wee, ride me high C G Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Am Ooh, ooh, are we gonna fly C G Down in the easy chair
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