| ← | John Denver | → |
| F | d | C | B | F |
| Almost heaven, W | est Virginia, | Blue Ridge mountain, Sh | enandoah R | iver |
| Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze. |
| F | C | d | B |
| Country roads, take me h | ome to the pl | ace I belong, |
| F | C | B | F | |
| West Virg | inia mountain m | omma, take me h | ome country r | oads. |
| All my memories gather round her, miner's lady stranger to blue water. |
| Dark and dusty, painted on the sky, misty taste of moonshine teardrops in my eye. |
Ref.
| d | C | F |
| I hear the v | oice, in the m | ornin' hour she calls me, |
| B | F | C | |
| the r | adio rem | inds me of my h | ome far away, |
| d | Eb | B | |
| and dr | ivin' down the r | oad I get a f | eelin' |
| F | C | C7 | |
| that I sh | ould have been home y | esterday, yesterd | ay. |
Ref.