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Sinaloa Cowboys ukulele

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There is no strumming pattern for this song yet. and get +5 IQ
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
Date: Thu, 4 Jan 1996 16:51:12 -0100
From: jgroce@mail.utexas.edu (Jason Groce)
Subject: SINALOA COWBOYS by Bruce Springsteen

  By Bruce Springsteen
  From The Ghost of Tom Joad Album

  I won't bother giving chord fingerings for this song, as they are
  standard. To play along with the record, place a capo on the third
  fret.  Hint:  Hammer on and pull of the first fret on the B string
  at the end of each verse to give a hint of the fills Bruce plays.


Intro:  F

F                                             F
Miguel came from a small town in northern Mexico
        F                                                       G
He came north with his brother Louis to California three years ago
     F                                                 F
They crossed at the river levee when Louis was just sixteen
          F                    G                    F
And found work together in the fields of the San Joaquin

They left their homes and family,
Their father said "My sons, one thing you will learn:
For everything the north gives, it exacts a price in return."
They worked side by side in the orchards
>From morning till the day was through
Doing the work the hueros wouldn't do.

Word was out some men in from Sinaloa were looking for some hands
Well deep in Fresno county there was a deserted chicken ranch.
There in a small tin shack on the edge of a ravine,
Miguel and Louis stood cooking methamphetamine.

You could spend a year in the orchards
Or make half as much in one ten-hour shift
                F                F
Working for the men from Sinaloa
           G           F
But if you slipped the hydriodic acid
      F                       F
Could burn right through your skin
                 F                               G
They'd leave you spittin' up blood in the desert
If you breathed those fumes in.

It was early one winter evening as Miguel stood watch outside
When the shack exploded, lighting up the valley night.
Miguel carried Louis' body over his shoulder down a swale
To the creekside and there in the tall grass Louis Rosales died.

Miguel lifted Louis' body into his truck and then he drove
To where the morning sunlight fell on a eucalyptus grove.
There in the dirt he dug up ten thousand dollars, all that they'd saved,
Kissed his brother's lips and placed him in his grave.

Ending: F F F

|                                         |                             |
| "Immature artists imitate.              | Jason Groce                 |
|  Mature artists steal."                 |    MFA in Playwriting       |
|                                         |    UT Austin                |
|              -- T.S. Eliot              |                             |
|                                         |  jgroce@mail.utexas.edu     |
|                                         |                             |

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