by Billy Ray Cyrus
| Intro | F# | F# | F# | F# |
| F# |
| You can tell the world |
| C# | |
| You can burn my clothes when I am | gone |
| F# | |
| And laugh and joke about me on the | phone |
| F# |
| You can tell my arms |
| C# | |
| You can tell my feet to hit the | floor |
| F# | |
| They won't be reaching out for you no | more |
My achy breaky heart
|
| F# |
| You can tell your maw |
| C# | |
| You can tell your dog that bit my | leg |
| F# | |
| He never really liked me any | way |
| F# | |
| Go | tell your aunt Louise |
| C# | |
| Myself already knows I'm not o | kay |
| F# | |
| It might be walkin' out on me one | day |
My achy breaky heart
|
My achy breaky heart
|
| F# | C# | F# | C# | F# | |
| Uuu | uuuu. | . |