Misc Musicals – Pippin - Simple Joys (Guitar)

           Bb            Ab         Bb      Ab
Well, I'll sing you the story of a sorrowful lad,

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He had everything he wanted, didn't want what he had.

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He had wealth and pelf and fame and name and all of that noise,

        Gb                        Ab Absus4 Ab
but he didn't have none of those simple joys.

Bbm               Eb             Ab   Ab7sus Ab7
His life seemed purposeless and flat.

Bbm             Eb                 Bb   Ab2 Bb
Aren't you glad you dont feel like that?

Ab   Bb               Ab
So he ran from all the deeds he'd done,

   Bb                   Ab
he ran from things he'd just begun.

   Bb            Ab           Bb             Ab
He ran from himself, which was mighty far to run.

Bb            Ab              Bb             A
Out into the country where he played as a boy.

       Gb                           Ab Absus4 Ab   Bbm
For he knew he had to find him some simple joy.

          Eb                  Ab Ab7sus Ab7   Bbm
He wanted someplace warm and green.

             Eb              Bb   Ab   Bb   Ab   Bb   Ab
We all could use a change of scene.

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Db                  Db Cb                    E C Db
Sweet summer evenings,    hot wine and bread.

Db                 Db Cb                   Gb G Ab
Sharing your supper,     sharing your bed.

Ab                 Db/Ab   Ab             Gb               GbMaj7
Simple joys have a simple voice. It says: Why not go ahead?

            Bbm     Eb      Gb       Ab
Wouldn't you rather be a left handed flea,

     Bbm       Eb          Gb            Ab
or a crab on a slab at the bottom of the sea

       Bbm     Bbm7/Ab      Eb/G
than a man who never learns how to be free.

Gb            Ab       Bb   Ab   Bb   Ab
Not 'til he's cold and dead.

            Bbm     Eb      Gb       Ab
Wouldn't you rather be a left handed flea,

     Bbm       Eb          Gb            Ab
or a crab on a slab at the bottom of the sea

       Bbm     Bbm7/Ab      Eb/G
than a man who never learns how to be free.

Gb            A
Not 'till the day he dies?

Db                   Db C B         E    B C Db
Sweet summer evenings,    sapphire skies.

Db                 Db C B              E   Gb G Ab
Feasting your belly,    feasting your eyes.

Ab                 Db/Ab  Ab
Simple joys have a simple voice.

         Gb                    GbMaj7
It says time is living's prize.

                Bbm     Eb      Gb       Ab
And wouldn't you rather be a left handed flea,

     Bbm       Eb          Gb            Ab
or a crab on a slab at the bottom of the sea,

  Bbm         Eb        Gb     Ab
a newt on the root of a banyan tree,

     Bbm      Eb       Gb   Ab
or a fig on a twig in Galilee,

       Bbm     Bbm7/Ab      Eb/G
than a man who never learns how to be free.

Gb           Ab      Gb           Ab
Not till the day he, not till the day he,

Gb           Ab   Gb           Ab
not till the day, not till the day he

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