Title [C] - Artist There [D]is a young cow[A]boy, he [G]lives on the [F#m]range, His [Bm]horse and his [G]cattle are his [D]only comp[F#m]panions, He [Bm]works in the s[G]addle and he sl[D]eeps in the c[F#m]anyons, [G]waiting for [D]summer, his p[A]astures to c[Em7]change.[A7] And [G]as the moon rises [A7sus4]he sits by his [D]fire, [Bm]Thinking about [G]women and [D]glasses of [A]beer, And [G]closing his eyes as the [A7sus4]doggies ret[D]tire, He [Bm]sings out a [G]song which is [D]soft but it's clear, As [E7sus4]if maybe s[E7]someone could[Asus2] hear. [A] Chorus: |He says [D]goodnight you [G]moonlight [A7sus4]ladies,[D] |[Bm]Rock-a-bye [G]sweet baby [D]James, |[Bm]Deep greens and [G]blues are the [D]colors I choose, |Won't you [E7sus4]let me go down in my [Asus2]dreams, |And [G]rock-a-by [A7sus4]sweet baby [D]James. Well the [D]first of De[A]cember was [G]covered with [F#m]snow, And [Bm]so was the [G]turnpike from Stockbridge to [F#m]Boston, The Birkshires seemed [G]dream-like on account of that [F#m]frostin', [G]With ten miles behind me and [A7sus4]ten thousand more to [D]go. There's a [G]song that they sing when they take to the [A]highway, A [Bm]song that they [G]sing when they [D]take to the [A]sea, A [G]song that they sing of their [A7sus4]home in the [D]sky, Maybe [Bm]you can be[G]lieve it, if it [D]helps you to sleep, But [E7sus4]singing works [E7]just fine for [Asus2]me.[A] Chorus: