Bob Dylan - Talkin New York Chords

 
         
         
         
         
         
3
2
4
3 fr
         
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
         
         
         
         
         
2
1
3
4
3 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
3
2
1
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
4
3
7 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1

10 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
2
3
4
X
10 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
3
3
3
1
12 fr
         
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4
         
         
         
         
         
X
3
2
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
2
3
4
1
8 fr
         
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
X
3
4
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4
10 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
4
3

12 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
2
2 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
2
3
4
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
1
4
4
4
X
7 fr
         
         
         
         
         
4
3
1
1
1
X
7 fr
         
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4

10 fr
         
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
12 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
4
3
5 fr
         
         
         
         
         
X
X
No chord
Standard guitar tuning:
E
A
D
G
B
E
No capo

G C D

G C D G C G G G

G C /[b] Rambling out of the wild west DLeaving the towns I love the best GThought I'd seen some Cups and downs D /[f#] G (. /[e]/D . ) 'Till I come into New York town C /[b] People going down to the ground D /[f#] G Buildings going up to the sky. G . C /[b] D . . /f#G ./[e]/D G Wintertime in New York town The wind blowing snow around Walk around with nowhere to go Somebody could freeze right to the bone I froze right to the bone New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years I didn't feel so cold then. I swung on to my old guitar Grabbed hold of a subway car And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride I landed up on the downtown side: Greenwich Village. I walked down there and ended up In one of them coffee-houses on the block Got on the stage to sing and play Man there said: "Come back some other day You sound like a hillbilly We want folksingers here. Well, I got a harmonica job begun to play Blowing my lungs out for a dollar a day I blowed inside out and upside down The man there said he loved my sound He was raving about he loved my sound Dollar a day's worth. After weeks and weeks of hanging around I finally got a job in New York town In a bigger place, bigger money too Even joined the Union and paid my dues. Now, a very great man once said That some people rob you with a fountain pen It don't take too long to find out Just what he was talking about A lot of people don't have much food on their table But they got a lot of forks and knives And they gotta cut something. So one morning when the sun was warm I rambled out of New York town Pulled my cap down over my eyes And heated out for the western skies So long New York Howdy, East Orange