Cheyenne

D D F#m I am going on my way to see what's left of Cheyenne, G A I've known the name all my life, ain't put a face to it yet, Bm A G D And there's just too many things I ain't seen so I am, G A D Driving north to find it, D F#m And every couple miles the reception dies on out, G A And there's a buzzing in my mind a little looming cloud, Bm A G D Like I'm waiting on a call that I'm gonna miss somehow, G A D Ain't that some sweet irony, G D I was hoping to feel something undeniable, G D A I was sold a bill of goods by documentaries and books, Bm A G D 'Cause it's just another town on its way back down, G A D To being wholly unremarkable, D F#m There's a dead famous writer buried in some southern state, G A He won the Pulitzer Prize, now he's a weekend trip away, Bm A G D And I figured I'd sit calmly in the grass beside his grave, G A D But it was dirt and empty bottles, G D I was hoping to feel something undeniable, G D A I was sold a bill of goods by documentaries and books, Bm A G D And it strikes me that he would be shaken by this scene, G A D So doesn't that make me the problem? D F#m I am going on my way to see what's left of Cheyenne, G A I've known the name all my life, ain't put a face to it yet, Bm A G D And there's just too many things I ain't seen so I am, G A D Driving north to find it,