#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
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From: bam@wam.umd.edu (Brian Michalowski)
Note: This is taken from the sheet music arranged for piano. Some of the
tab may need to be played an octave higher. You may need to capo at
at the first fret for some of these songs, too.
He Went to Paris
E|---------------------||-----------------------||----------------------|B|---------------------||-----------------------||----------------------|G|---------------------||.---------------------.||----------------------|D|------------0--------||.--------------0---0--.||----------------------|A|---4--0--------------||---4--0-----4----------||--4--0-----4----0-----|E|---------0-----------||---------0-------------||--------0-------------| 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 &
A D A
He went to Paris lookin' for answers to questions that bothered him so.
A D E7
He was impressive, young and agressive, savin' the world on his own.
D A D E7
But the warm summer breezes, the French wine and cheese put his ambition at bay
A
The summers and winters scattered like splinters
D E7 A
And four or five years slipped away.
Additional lyrics:
Then he went to England, played the piano, and married an Actress named Kim.
They had a fine life, she was a good wife and bore him a young son named Jim.
And all of the answers and all of the questions he locked in his attic one day
'Cause he liked the quiet clean county livin'
And twenty more years slipped away.
Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his lady, and left him with
only one eye.
His body was battered, his whole world was shattered, all he could do was
just cry.
While the tears were a-fallin' he was recallin' answers he never found.
So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean
And left England without a sound.
Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin's and drinks his Green Label
each day.
Writing his memoirs, losin' his hearin', but he don't care what people say.
Through eighty-six years of perpetual motion, if he likes you he'll smile,
then he'll say
"Jimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic,
But I had a good life all the way."
And he went to Paris lookin' for answers to questions that bothered him so.
