T:Booth Shot Lincoln
M:2/4
K:A
I:C:AADD AADD AADD AEAA (2X)
I:C:AADD AADD AADD AEAA (2X)
T:Booth Shot Lincoln
M:2/4
Q:1/4=100 %set tempo
K:A
[|:"A"E4E2>E2|"D"F2A2-A2B2|"A"c2cc ((3BcB)A2|"D"F4-F2F2|
"A"E4E2>E2|"D"F2A2-A2f2|"A"e2c2"E"((3BcB)B2|1"A"A4F4:|]2"A"A4-A2B2||
||:"A"c2e2-e2e2|"D"f2a2-a2f2|"A"e2c2B2A2|"D"F4-F2B2|
|1"A"c2e2-e2e2|"D"f2a2-2a2f2|"A"e2c2"E"((3BcB)B2|"A"A4A2>B2:|]
|2"A"E4E2>E2|"D"F2A2-A2f2|"A"e2c2"E"((3BcB)B2|"A"A4F4|]
K:A
[A]Wilkes Booth came to [D]Washing-ton, An [A]actor great was [D]he,
He [A]played at Ford's The-[D]ater And [A]Lincoln [E]went to [A]see.
It was [A]early in [D]April, Not [A]many weeks a-[D]go,
The [A]people of this fair [D]city, All [A]gathered [E]at the [A]show.
The [A]war it is all [D]over, The [A]people happy [D]now,
And [A]Abra-ham [D]Lincoln, A-[A]rose to [E]make his [A]bow.
The [A]people cheer him [D]wildly, A- [A]rising to their [D]feet,
And [A]Lincoln waving [D]of his hand, He [A]calmly [E]takes his [A]seat.
And [A]while he sees the [D]play go on, His [A]thoughts are running [D]deep,
His [A]darling wife, close [D]by his side, Has [A]fallen [E]fast a-[A]sleep.
[A]From the box there [D]hangs a flag, It is [A]not the Stars and [D]Bars,
The [A]flag that holds with-[D]in its folds Bright [A]gleaming [E]Stripes and [A]Stars.
[A]J. Wilkes Booth he moves [D]down the aisle, He had [A]measured once be-[D]fore,
He [A]passes Lincoln's [D]body-guard a-[A]nodding [E]at the [A]door.
He [A]holds a dagger in [D]his right hand, A [A]pistol in his [D]left,
He [A]shoots poor Lincoln in the [D]temple, And [A]sends his [E]soul to [A]rest.
The [A]wife a-wakes from [D]slumber, And [A]screams in her [D]rage,
[A]Booth jumps over the [D]railing, And [A]lands him [E]on the [A]stage.
He'll [A]rue the day, he'll [D]rue the hour, As [A]God him life shall [D]give,
When [A]Booth stood in the [D]center stage, Crying "[A]Tyrants [E]shall not [A]live!"
The [A]people all ex-[D]cited then, Cried [A]every-one, "A [D]hand!"
Cried [A]all the people [D]near, "For [A]God's sake, [E]save that [A]man!"
Then [A]Booth ran back with [D]boot and spur, A-[A]cross the back stage [D]floor,
He [A]mounts that trusty [D]claybank mare, All [A]saddled [E]at the [A]door.
[A]J. Wilkes Booth, in [D]his last play, All [A]dressed in broadcloth [D]deep,
He [A]gallops down the [D]alley-way, I [A]hear those [E]horses [A]feet.
Poor [A]Lincoln then was [D]heard to say, And [A]all has gone to [D]rest,
"Of [A]all the actors [D]in this town, I [A]loved Wilkes [E]Booth the [A]best."