Tonart: B minor•
Verse 1
G
A
Why do the wrong people travel?
Bm
E
A
Travel, they say, improves the mind,
Bm
A
an irritating platitude,
Bm
A
which frankly, entre nous,
G#
A
is very far from true.
G#
G
G#
Personally, I've yet to find that longitude and latitude can
Bm
E
Bm
educate those scores of monumental boars
G
who travel in groups and herds
G#
A
and groups of various breeds and sexes
G
till the whole world reels
G#
to shouts and squeals
Bm
And the clicking of roly -flexes.
G#
A
G
Bm
Why do the wrong people
G#
D#
G#
travel, travel, travel
A
G#
When the right people stay
A
Bm
back home?
G
What compulsion compels them
Bm
A
Bm
And who the hell tells them
To drag their cans to Zanzibar
Instead of staying quietly in Omaha?
D#
G#
Bm
The Taj Mahal and the Grand Canal
G
And the sunny French Riviera
Bm
would be less suppressed
if the Middle West would settle for
somewhere rather nearer.
G
Bm
G
Bm
Please do not think that I criticise
G#
Bm
A
Bm
or cavil at a genuine urge to roam.
But why, oh why,
do the wrong people travel
when the right people stay back home
and mind their business
when the right people stay back
G#
Bm
home with television
when the right people stay back home?
A
G#
A
Bm
I'm merely asking why the
A
right people stay back home.
Bm
A
Just when you think romance is ripe,
Bm
it rather sharply dawns on you
G#
That each sweet serenade
Bm
is for the tourist trade.
G#
Bm
Any attractive native type
who resolutely fawns on you
E
Bm
Is surely on the books at Mr.
E
Thomas Cook's.
Bm
There isn't a rock between
Bangkok
and the beaches of Hispianola
That does not recoil
from suntan oil
and the gurgle of Coca -Cola?
A
G
Why do the wrong people
Bm
G
travel, travel, travel
Bm
When the right people stay back
home?
G
What explains this mass mania
Bm
A
to leave Pennsylvania
Bm
G
And clack around like flocks of geese
Bm
De manding dry martinis
on the isles of Greece?
G#
In the smallest street when the
G#
Bm
They invariably fetch up
G#
Bm
And it's hard to
make them, except a steak
That isn't served rare
and smeared with ketchup
It would take years to unravel, ravel, ravel
A
Bm
Every impulse that makes them roam
But why,
oh why do the wrong people travel
When the right people stay back home
And eat hot doughnuts
when the right people stay back home
With all that lettuce
A
when the right people stay back home
G
Bm
I sometimes wonder why the
A
right people stay back home.
Bm
Why do the wrong people travel,
travel, travel,
G#
When the right people stay
What peculiar obsessions
A
Bm
inspire these processions
Of families from Houston, Tex,
With all those Camerons
around their necks.
They will take a train or an aeroplane
For an hour on the Costa, brother,
Bm
And they'll see Pompeii on the only day
Bm
That it's up to its ass in moat and lava.
Bm
Millions of tourists are churning
up the gravel
Bm
A
Bm
When they gaze at St. Peter's dome.
But why, oh why,
A
Bm
do the wrong people travel
When the right people
A
Bm
Won't someone tell me
Why the right people
E
A
Bm
stay back home?
you
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