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Wond'ring Aloud
by Jethro Tull
[C] Wond’ring [Am] Aloud, how we [G] feel [D] today?
[C] Last night set the [Am] sunset, my [G] hand in her [D] hair.
[C] We are our own [D] saviors, as we [G] start, [Em] both our [D] hearts,
beating [Em] life
[G] Into each [D] other
[C] Wond’ring [Am] aloud, will the [G] years treat us [D] well?
[C] As she floats in the [Am] kitchen, I’m [G] tasting the [D] smell
[C] Of toast as the [D] butter runs, then she [G] comes, [Em] spilling [D]
crumbs, on the [Em] bed
and [G] I shake my [D] head
And it’s [Dm] only the [C] giving that [G] makes you, what you [Em] are.
[The same chords can be used for most of Wond’ring Again as well]
We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow.
Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I’ve been told.
Stumbled on a daffodil, which she crushed, in the rush, heard it sigh
And left it to die.
At once felt remorse, and we’re touched by the loss of our own
Held its poor broken head in her hand, dropped some tears in the snow
And it’s only the taking that makes you, what you are
Wond’ring aloud, will the son one day be born
To share in our infancy, in the chance path we’ve worn
In the aging seclusion of this earth, that our birth did suprise
We’ll open his eyes.
[C] Last night set the [Am] sunset, my [G] hand in her [D] hair.
[C] We are our own [D] saviors, as we [G] start, [Em] both our [D] hearts,
beating [Em] life
[G] Into each [D] other
[C] Wond’ring [Am] aloud, will the [G] years treat us [D] well?
[C] As she floats in the [Am] kitchen, I’m [G] tasting the [D] smell
[C] Of toast as the [D] butter runs, then she [G] comes, [Em] spilling [D]
crumbs, on the [Em] bed
and [G] I shake my [D] head
And it’s [Dm] only the [C] giving that [G] makes you, what you [Em] are.
[The same chords can be used for most of Wond’ring Again as well]
We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow.
Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I’ve been told.
Stumbled on a daffodil, which she crushed, in the rush, heard it sigh
And left it to die.
At once felt remorse, and we’re touched by the loss of our own
Held its poor broken head in her hand, dropped some tears in the snow
And it’s only the taking that makes you, what you are
Wond’ring aloud, will the son one day be born
To share in our infancy, in the chance path we’ve worn
In the aging seclusion of this earth, that our birth did suprise
We’ll open his eyes.