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Dave’s Picks, Volume 3: Auditorium Theatre, Chicago, IL · 10/22/71
Disc 1
01. Bertha
02. Me and My Uncle
03. Tennessee Jed
04. Jack Straw
05. Loser
06. Playing in the Band
07. Sugaree
08. Beat It On Down the Line
09. Black Peter
10. Mexicali Blues
11. Cold Rain and Snow
12. Me and Bobby McGee
Disc 2
01. Comes a Time
02. One More Saturday Night
03. Ramble On Rose
04. Cumberland Blues
05. That’s It for the Other One >
06. Deal
07. Sugar Magnolia
08. Casey Jones >
09. Johnny B. Goode
Disc 3
01. Truckin’
02. Big Railroad Blues
03. The Frozen Logger
04. Dark Star >
05. Sitting on Top of the World >
06. Dark Star >
07. Me and Bobby McGee
08. Brown‐Eyed Women
09. St. Stephen
10. Johnny B. Goode
Gone are the days when the ox fall down,
Take up the yoke and plow the fiends around.
Gone are the days when the ladies said' "Please,
Gentle Jack Jones won't you come to me."

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on.

1929 when he stepped to the bar, drank to the dregs of the whiskey jar.
1030 when the wall caved in, he made his way selling red-eyed gin.

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on.

Delilah Jones was the mother of twins,
Two times over and the rest were sins.
Raised eight boys, only I turned bad,
Didn't get the lickin's that the other ones had.

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on.

Tumble down shack on Big Foot country.
Snowed so hard that the roof caved in.
Delilah Jones went to meet her God,
And the old man never was the same again.

Daddy made whiskey and he made it well.
Cost two dollars and it burned like hell.
I cut hick'ry just to fire the still,
Drink down a bottle and be ready to kill.

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on.

Gone are the days when the ox fall down,
Take up the yoke and plow the fiends around.
Gone are the days when the ladies said' "Please,
Gentle Jack Jones won't you come to me."

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine,
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean.
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down,