Colter is usually alternating the bass with the tumb.
So the picking pattern would be: Pick root, down, pick 5th, up, down, up
[Intro]
C G Am C Cadd2/B Am Am/G F Em Dm G C
[Verse 1]
C
You can see the bear paws
G
The old man on his back
Prickly pears, a blue moon
Am
In the short and native grass
C Cadd2/B Am
There's a bunch of empty beer cans
Am/G F Em Dm
In an old, loose mineral sack
G C
Give you some idea of where you're at
[Verse 2]
C G
Buck brush and sage as far as you can see
It's the south slopes of the hills
Am
Turns to pine and poplar trees
C Cadd2/B Am Am/G F Em Dm
Cattle all grazing up and down a big coulee
G
Under Charley Russel skies
C
Like a blue and purple sea
[Chorus]
Am
Cypress Hills
G
And the big country below
Am
Where life is still
G G7
And a man can be alone
C Cadd2/B
You can duck underneath
Am Am/G F Em Dm
All your trials and troubles for a time
G C
Like a pronghorn underneath a bottom wire
[Solo]
C G Am C Cadd2/B Am Am/G F Em Dm G C
C G Am C Cadd2/B Am Am/G F Em Dm G C
[Chorus]
Am
Cypress Hills
G
And the big country below
Am
Where life is still
G G7
And a man can be alone
C Cadd2/B
You can duck underneath
Am Am/G F Em Dm
All your trials and troubles for a time
G C
Like a pronghorn underneath a bottom wire
[Post-Chorus]
C Cadd2/B Am Am/G
You can sweat and cuss and wonder why
F Em Dm
They say our west has died
G
When the folks around the Cypress Hills
C
Still drag calves to the fire
[Outro]
C Cadd2/B Am Am/G F Em Dm G C
You can see the bear paws
The old man on his back
Prickly pears, a blue moon
In the short and native grass
There's a bunch of empty beer cans
In an old, loose mineral sack
Give you some idea of where you're at
Buck brush and sage as far as you can see
It's the south slopes of the hills
Turns to pine and poplar trees
Cattle all grazing up and down a big coulee
Under Charley Russel skies
Like a blue and purple sea
Cypress Hills
And the big country below
Where life is still
And a man can be alone
You can duck underneath
All your trials and troubles for a time
Like a pronghorn underneath a bottom wire
Cypress Hills
And the big country below
Where life is still
And a man can be alone
You can duck underneath
All your trials and troubles for a time
Like a pronghorn underneath a bottom wire
You can sweat and cuss and wonder why
They say our west has died
When the folks around the Cypress Hills
Still drag calves to the fire
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