Grateful Dead - Let it grow

^AmMorning comes, she follows the path to the river shor^Bdim7e ^{Ddim7 Fdim7 Gdim7 Am}Lightly sung, her song is the latch on the morning’s ^Bdim7door ^AmSee the sun, ^Csparkle in the reeds ^AmSilver beads,^C pass to the sea ^{Bm D}

^DShe comes from a town where they call her the wood cutter’s ^A7daughter ^A7She’s brown as the bank where she kneels down to gather her ^Dwater ^DShe bears it away with a love that the river has ^Bmtaught her ^AmLet it flow, let it flow, ^Cwide and clear ^Em/F#

^AmRound and round, the cut of the plow in the furrowed f^Bdim7ields ^{Ddim7 Fdim7 Gdim7 Am}Season’s round, the bushels of corn and the barley me^Bdim7al ^AmBroken ground, ^Copen and beckoning ^AmTo the spring, ^Cblack dirt live again ^{Bm D}

^DThe plowman is broad as the back of the land he is ^A7sowing ^A7As he dances the circular track of the plow ever ^Dknowing ^DThat the work of his days measures more than the planting and ^Bmgrowing ^AmLet it grow, ^Amlet it grow, ^Cgreatly yield ^Em/F#

^Em/F#What shall we ^Bsay, shall we ^Gcall it by a ^Em/F#name As ^Cwell to count the ^Gangels ^Bm7dancing on a pin ^Em/F#Water ^Bbright as the ^Gsky from which it ^Em/F#came And the ^Dname is on the earth that takes it ^Ain We ^Cwill not speak, but ^Gstand inside the ^Em/F#rain And ^Clisten ^Gto the ^Dthunder ^Emshout, "^AmI am, I am, ^CI am, ^Em/F#I am"

^AmSo it goes, we make what we made since the world began ^{Bdim7 Ddim7 Fdim7 Gdim7 Am}Nothing more, the love of the women, work of ^Bdim7man ^AmSeasons round, ^Ccreatures great and small ^AmUp and down, as^C we rise and fall ^{Bm D}

^Em/F#What shall we ^Bsay, shall we ^Gcall it by a ^Em/F#name As ^Cwell to count the ^Gangels ^Bm7dancing on a pin ^Em/F#Water ^Bbright as the ^Gsky from which it ^Em/F#came And the ^Dname is on the earth that takes it ^Ain We ^Cwill not speak, but ^Gstand inside the ^Em/F#rain And ^Clisten ^Gto the ^Dthunder ^Emshout, "^AmI am, I am, ^CI am, ^Em/F#I am"