Winds Of The Old Days Chords by Joan Baez

[B] _ _ _ _ [E] _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ The lady's [G#m] adrift in a [C#m] foreign _ _ land, [F#] singing on issues [B] both humble and [E] grand.
_ [B]
A decade flew past [C#m] her and there on the page, _ [F#]
she read that the prince [B] had returned to the [E] stage.
_ [B] _
_ _ _ _ _ _
Hovering near treacherous [C#m]
water, _ _ _ [F#] a friend saw her drifting [B] and caught her.
[E] _ _ [B] _
_ _ Unguarded [C#m] fantasies flying too _ _ [F#] far, _ memories tumbling [B] like sweets from a [E] jar.
_ [B] _
_ _ _ _ Take _ me down to [C#m] the harbor _ now, [F#]
grapes of the summer [G#m] are low on the bough.
[D#m] _
Ghosts of my history [C#m] will follow me _ there, [F#] and the winds of the old days will blow _ through [G#m]
my _ _ _ hair.
_ _ _ _ _ [B] _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
Breath on an undying [C#m] _
ember, _ [E] _ [F#] it doesn't take much to [B]
remember. _ _ _ _
Those eloquent songs from the [C#m] good old _ _ days [F#] set us to marching [B] with banners _ _ _ _ _ _ ablaze.
But reporters, there's no sense [C#m] in prying, [G#m] _ _ [F#] our blue-eyed son's been [B] denying.
_ _ [E] _ The [B]
truths that are left in [C#m] a mystery, _ _ _ [F#] the sixties are over so [B] set him _ free. _ _
_ _ _ _ Take _ me down to [C#m] the harbor _ now, [F#] _
grapes of the summer [G#m] are low on the bough.
[D#m] _
Ghosts of my history [C#m] will follow me _ there, [F#] and the winds of the old days will blow through [G#m]
my _ _ hair. _
_ _ _ _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _
Why do I sit [C#m] the autumnal _ _ [F#] judge?
Years of self _ -righteousness [B] will not _ [E] _ [B] budge.
Singer, _ savior, it [C#m] was his to _ choose.
[F#]
Which of us knows what [B] was his to _ [E] lose?
[B] _
_ _ _ _ _ [C#] _
_ Titles are best when [D#m] they're made of stone.
_ [G#] _
_ Savior's a nuisance [C#] to live with at home. _ _
Stars often fall, [D#m]
heroes go unsung, [G#] and _ martyrs most certainly [C#]
die too [F#] young.
_ [C#] _
_ _ _ _ So thank you for writing the [D#m] best songs.
_ _ [G#]
Thank you for writing the [C#] few _ _ wrongs.
You're a savage gift [D#m] on a wayward bus, [G#] but you stepped down and [C#] you sang to _ [F#] _ _ [C#] _
_ _ us. _
Get you down to the [D#m] _ harbor now, [G#] _
most of the sour grapes are [A#m] gone from the bough. _
[Fm] _ Ghosts of Johanna [D#m] will visit you _ there, and [G#] the winds of the old days will _ blow through [C#] your _ hair. _ _
_ [F#] _ _ _ _ _
[C#] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _