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| Eb | G | | Sitting in the morning | sun |
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| Ab | F | I'll be | sitting when the evening | comes |
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| Eb | G | | Watching the ships | roll in |
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| Ab | F | And I | watch 'em roll away a | gain |
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| | Eb | C7 | | | Sitting on the dock of the | bay |
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| | Eb | C7 | | Watching the | tide roll a | way |
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| | Eb | F7 | | I'm just | sitting on the dock of the | bay |
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| Eb | G | I | left my home in | Georgia |
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| Ab | F | Headed | for the 'Frisco | bay |
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| Eb | C | 'Cause I | had nothin to | live for |
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| Ab | F | And look like | nothing's gonna come my | way |
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| Eb | Bb | Ab7 | | Look | like | nothing's gonna change |
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| Eb | Bb | Ab7 | | Every | thing | still remains the same |
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| Eb | Bb | Ab7 | Eb | | I can't | do what | ten people tell | me to do |
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| C# | Bb | | So I guess I'll re | main the same |
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| | Eb | G | | | Sittin here resting my | bones |
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| | Ab | F | | And this | loneliness won't leave me | alone |
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| | Eb | G | | It's | two thousand miles I | roamed |
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| | Ab | F | | Just to | make this dock my | home |
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Now, I'm just stitting ... |
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