Grateful Dead – Weather Report Suite Full Version Prelude - Part 1- Let It Grow (Guitar)

E                         C#m
Winter rain, now tell me why,

                       D
Summers fade, and roses die. The answer

C#m7                   F#m
came, the wind and rain.

         E                     C#m
Golden hills, now veiled in grey,

                           D
Summer leaves have blown away. Now what

C#m7                      F#m
remains? The wind and rain.

      E7              C#
And like a desert spring,

   A                   G
My lover comes and spreads her wings.

D                G
Knowing, like a song that's born to soar the sky,

 D                 G
Flowing, flowing 'til the waters all are dry,

D             C
Growing, the loving in her eyes.

        E                    C#m
Circle songs and sands of time,

C#m                   D
Seasons will end in tumbled rhyme,

             C#m7              F#m
And little change, the wind and rain.

 E7                    C#
And like a desert spring,

   A                G
My lover comes and spreads her wings.

D                 G
Knowing, like a song that's born to soar the sky,

D                  G
Flowing, flowing 'til the rivers all are dry,

D               C
Growing, the loving in her eyes.

B                           E
Winter gray and falling rain,

B                      E
We'll see summer come again,

B                           E
Darkness falls and seasons change,

B                              E
Same old friends the wind and rain,

B                        E
Winter gray and falling rain,

B                      E
We'll see summer come again,

E
Like a song that's born to soar the sky.

Am                                                Bdim7
Morning comes, she follows the path to the river shore

Am                                                   Bdim7
Lightly sung, her song is the latch on the morning’s door

Am           C
See the sun, sparkle in the reeds

Am           C                 Bm  D
Silver beads, pass to the sea

D                                                           A7
She comes from a town where they call her the wood cutter’s daughter

                                                            D
She’s brown as the bank where she kneels down to gather her water

                                                 Bm
She bears it away with a love that the river has taught her

Am                        C               Em/F#
Let it flow, let it flow, wide and clear

       Em/F#
|---|---|---|---|---|

|   |   |   |   |   |
|---|---|---|---|---|

|   x   X   |   |   X
|---|---|---|---|---|

|   |   |   |   |   |
|---|---|---|---|---|

|   |   |   |   |   |
|---|---|---|---|---|

Am                                          Bdim7
Round and round, the cut of the plow in the furrowed fields

Am                                          Bdim7
Season’s round, the bushels of corn and the barley meal

Am             C
Broken ground, open and beckoning

Am             C                     Bm  D
To the spring, black dirt live again

D                                                  A7
The plowman is broad as the back of the land he is sowing

A7                                               D
As he dances the circular track of the plow ever knowing

D                                                                    Bm
That the work of his days measures more than the planting and growing

Am                        C               Em/F#
Let it grow, let it grow, greatly yield

Em/F#         B             G            Em/F#
What shall we say, shall we call it by a name

   C                 G      Bm7
As well to count the angels dancing on a pin

Em/F# B             G                 Em/F#
Water bright as the sky from which it came

        D                                  A
And the name is on the earth that takes it in

   C                   G                Em/F#
We will not speak, but stand inside the rain

    C      G      D       Em      Am          C     Em/F#
And listen to the thunder shout, "I am, I am, I am, I am"

Am                                         Bdim7
So it goes, we make what we made since the world began

Am                                   Bdim7
Nothing more, the love of the women, work of man

Am             C
Seasons round, creatures great and small

Am             C
Up and down, as we rise and fall