Boo Hewerdine

Harvest Gypsies

Boo Hewerdine


Tom: G

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||: / / / / | / / | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | / / | / / / / | / / / / :|| [x2]


[Verse 1]
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In October we will come, a hundred and fifty thousand strong,
            D      G/B   Cadd9                                 G/B     D
When the picking's over, we'll be gone, they call us the har - vest gypsies!


[Verse 2]
     D             G/B    Cadd9                G/B      D
We only come be - cause we must, we are driven here by dust,
     D         G/B  Cadd9                              G/B    D
And they won't even look at us, they call us the har - vest gypsies!


[Verse 3]
           D             G/B  Cadd9                         G/B     D
And the hardest that it's ever been, I sold my blankets for gaso - line,
           D        G/B Cadd9                      G/B    D
And it's only hunger I  have seen, now I'm a har - vest gypsy!


[Break]
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||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!   /___/   /___/   /___/  :|| [x3]

  Cadd9   G/B      D
|  /  /   /  /  |  /  /   /  /  |


[Verse 4]
                D       G/B   Cadd9                            G/B     D
And there's apricots in Santa Clare, at Kern County they have apples there,
      D                     G/B    Cadd9                    G/B    D
And grapes they're growing every - where, all for the har - vest gypsies!


[Verse 5]
       D            G/B  Cadd9                         G/B   D
In a walnut grove I met a man, who lost his child be - fore San Fran',
          D               G/B    Cadd9                     G/B    D
We're strangers they don't un - derstand, we are the har - vest gypsies!


[Verse 6]
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And the gondalas and railway lines, filled with men when it is time,
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Drawn by the orange and the lime, all the har - vest gypsies!


[Break]
     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A    D2  D   D4  D   D2  D
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!   /___/   /___/   /___/  :|| [x3]

  Cadd9   G/B      D
|  /  /   /  /  |  /  /   /  /  |


[Verse 7]
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They hate it when their taxes rise, and the squatter camps that they des - pise,
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With - out us they would rot and die, without the har - vest gypsies!


[Verse 8]
           D                 G/B   Cadd9                          G/B       D
And the Holbrook's, we were farming men, and I dream, one day, we will a - gain,
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To miss the soil's a curious pain, when you're a har - vest gypsy!


[Break]
     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A    D2  D    D4  D  D2  D
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!   /___/   /___/   /___/  :|| [x3]

Cadd9        G/B               D
       When you're a harvest gypsy, yeah - eah!


[Coda]
     G       Cadd9  G/B  D/A    D2  D   D4  D   D2  D
||:  Oh---oh, oh,   oh,   oh!   /___/   /___/   /___/  :|| [x3]

Cadd9        G/B              D     D
       When you're a harvest gyp - sy!
                              ^     ^