"He Went To Paris"

Number #5 on my tearjerker countdown was suggested to me by Kman, the sweet hubby. We have nearly all of Jimmy Buffett's records and several cds full of Parrothead music for long road trips.



While most of Jimmy Buffet's songs are not particularly sad, "He Went To Paris" is the exception to the slightly raunchy signature tunes like, "Why Don't We Get Drunk", or "My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink". It was first released on the album, "A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean", in 1973.



This song may not have the typical style of my previous choices, but it is still very touching. Jimmy is far too laid back to be taken very seriously, anyway.

* Some interesting Parrothead trivia: "Bubbles Up !" This is one of Jimmy's favorite sayings...saved his life when he crashed the Goose off Long Island. He went through the flight survival training course at Little Creek Nav Air Station in Norfolk, and this was the last thing he remembered before blacking out after the crash..he saw which way the bubbles were going ("bubbles up") and followed them..and survived the crash).

"He Went To Paris"

He went to paris lookin’ for answers
To questions that bothered him so
He was impressive, young and aggressive
Savin’ the world on his own

But the warm summer breezes
The french wines and cheeses
Put his ambition at bay
The summers and winters
Scattered like splinters
And four or five years slipped away

Then he went to england, played the piano
And married an actress named kim
They had a fine life, she was a good wife
And bore him a young son named jim

And all of the answers and all of the questions
Locked in his attic one day
’cause he liked the quiet clean country livin’
And twenty more years slipped away

Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his lady
And left him with only one eye
His body was battered, his whole world was shattered
And all he could do was just cry

While the tears were a-fallin’ he was recallin’
Answers he never found
So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean
And left england without a sound

Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin’s
And drinks his green label each day
Writing his memoirs, losin’ his hearin’
But he don’t care what most people say

Through eighty-six years of perpetual motion
If he likes you he’ll smile and he’ll say
Jimmy, some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic
But I had a good life all the way

Coda:
And he went to paris lookin’ for answers
To questions that bothered him so