C                 am       F            C
To the rich man's bright lodges I ride in this wind
C                  am          D           G
On my good horse I call you my shiny Black Bess
       C            am
To the playhouse of fortune
   F               C
to take the bright silver
    C             am         F        C
and gold you have taken from somebody else

    C        am            F          C
and as we go riding in the damp foggy midnight 
    C              am            D            G
you snort, my good pony, and you give me your best
        C           am         F  
for you know, and I know, good horse,
           C
'monst the rich ones
    C          am          F         C
how oftimes we go there an unwelcome guest
     C          am            F          C
I've never took food from the widows and orphans
    C       am           D     G
and never a hard working man I oppressed
   C              am
so take your pace easy,
    F              C
for home soon like lightning
   C            am         F           F
we soon will be riding, my shiny black Bess
   C              am       F        C
no fat rich man's pony can ever overtake you
    C             am             D           G
and there's not a rider from the east to the west
      C          am
could hold you a light 
        F             C  
in this dark mist and midnight
         C          am
when the potbellied thieves 
          F         C
chase the unwelcome guest
C                 am               
I don't know good horse
      F            C
as we trot in this dark here
     C           am          D            G
that robbing the rich is for worse or for best
     C          am           F         C
they take it by stealing and lying and gambling
    C            am      F           C
and I take it my way, my shiny Black Bess
  C            am           F           C
I treat horses good and I'm friendly to strangers
  C             am               D             G
I ride and your running makes my guns talk the best
        C           am           
and the rangers and deputies
    F            C
are hired by the rich man 
   C            am          F             C
to catch me and hang me, my shining Black Bess
     C                am          F
Yes, they'll catch me napping one day
            C
and they'll kill me
    C            am            D           G
and then I'll be gone but that won't be my end
       C           am          F         C
For my guns and my saddle will always be filled
   C         am             F           C
by unwelcome travellers and other brave men
            C        am        F              C
and they'll take the money and spread it out equal
C             am            D        G       
Just like the bible and the prophets suggest
        C           am        F               C
but the men that go riding to help these poor workers
    C             am           F         C
the rich will cut down like an unwelcome guest