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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
Blessed are the one way ticket holders on a one way street. Blessed are the midnight riders for in the shadow of God they sleep. Blessed are the huddled hikers staring out at falling rain, wondering at the retribution in their personal acquaintance with pain. Blessed are the blood relations of the young ones who have died, who had not the time or patience to carry on this earthly ride. Rain will come and winds will blow, wild deer die in the mountain snow. Birds will beat at heaven's wall, what comes to one must come to us all. For you and I are one way ticket holders on a one way street. which lies across a golden valley where the waters of joy and hope run deep. So if you pass the parents weeping of the young ones who have died, take them to your warmth and keeping for blessed are the tears they cried and many were the years they tried. Take them to that valley wide and let their souls be pacified. ⓒ 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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Virgil Caine is my name and I drove on the Danville train
Til Stonewall's cavalry came and tore up the tracks again In the winter of '65, we were hungry, just barely alive I took the train to Richmond that fell It was a time I remember, oh, so well (CHORUS) The night they drove old Dixie down And all the bells were ringin The night they drove old Dixie down And all the people were singin' They went, na na na na na, na na na na Back with my wife in Tenessee And one day she said to me, Virgil, quick come see There goes the Robert E. Lee Now I don't mind chopping wood And I don't care if the money's no good Just take what you need and leave the rest But they should never have taken the very best (CHORUS) Like my father before me, I'm a working man And like my brother before me, I took a rebel stand Oh, he was just 18, proud and brave But a yankee laid him in his grave I swear by the blood below my feet You can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat (CHORUS) |
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Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink to the lowly of birth Raise your glass to the good and the evil Let's drink to the salt of the earth Say a prayer for the common foot soldier Spare a thought for his back brealcing work Say a prayer for his wife and his children Who burn the fires and who stili till the earth When I search a faceless crowd Swirling mass of grey and black and white They don't look real to me, In fact they look so strange Raise your glass to the hard working people Let's drink to the uncounted head Let's think of the wavering millions Who want leaders but get gamblers instead Spare a thought for the stay-at-home voter His empty eyes gaze at strange beauty shows And a parade of gray suited grafters A choice of cancer or polio! And when I search a faceless crowd Swirling mass of grey and black and white They don't look real to me, In fact they look so strange Let's drink to the hard working people Let's think of the lowly of birth Spare a thought for the ragtaggy people Let's drink to the salt of the earth Let's drink to the hard working people Let's drink to the salt of the earth Let's think of the two thousand million Let's think of the humble of birth |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
In the early dawn a stallion white prances the hills in the morning light. His bridle is painted with thunder and gold, orchids and dragons, pale knights of old. He is the horse of the ages past. And now the children run to see the stallion on the hill, bringing bags of apples and of clover they have filled. And the white horse tells his stories of the days now past and gone and the children stand a-wondering believing every song. How brightly glows the past. When the sun is high comes a mare so red, trampling the graves of the living and dead. Her mantle is heavy with mirrors and glass, all is reflected when the red mare does pass. She is the horse of the here and now. And now there is confusion amongst the children on the hill. They cling to one another and no longer can be still. While the red mare's voice is trembling with a rare and mighty call, the children start remembering the bearers and the pall. And though their many-colored sweaters are reflected in the glass, and though the sun shines down upon them, they are frightened in the grass. How stark is the here and now. When night does fall comes a stallion black, so proud and tall he never looks back. He wears him no emeralds, silver and gold, not even a covering to keep him from cold. He is the horse of the years to come. And I will get me down before this steed upon my knees and sing to him the sorrows of a thousand centuries. And the children now will scatter as their mothers call them home, for the sadness of the evening horse no child has ever known. And I will hang about him a bell that's never rung and thank him for the many words which from his throat have never sprung. And I'll thank God and all the angels that the stallion of the evening, the black horse of the future, comes to earth but has no tongue. ⓒ 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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Oh, my, but you have a pretty face
You favour a girl that I knew I imagine that she's still in Tennessee And, by God, I should be there, too I've a sadness too sad to be true Well I left Tennessee in a hurry, dear The same way that I'm leaving you But love is mainly just memories And everyone's got him a few So when I'm gone I'll be glad to love you At the brand new Tennessee Waltz You're literally waltzing on air At the brand new Tennessee Waltz There's no telling who will be there When I leave it'll be like I found you, love Descending Victorian stairs Feeling like one of your photographs Trapped while I'm putting on airs And getting even by saying."Who cares" At the brand new Tennessee Waltz You're literally waltzing on air At the brand new Tennessee Waltz There's no telling who will be there So, let all of your passionate violins Play a tune for a Tennessee kid Who's feeling like leaving another town With no place to go if he did 'Cause they'll catch you wherever you're hid At the brand new Tennessee Waltz You're literally waltzing on air At the brand new Tennessee Waltz There's no telling who will be there |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
You're tired and you're poor, you long to be free, but in this Godforsaken land you find no home, no family on the many roads that you've wandered since the day of your birth. You've become one of the last, lonely and wretched. Your hair is matted, your face and hands are dirty, and the years that you've toiled must number somewhere near thirty. The deepening of a sadness broke finally into madness. You are truly one of the last, lonely and wretched. Your eyes are wild and frightening at the same time they are blessed and I wonder if God died, turned his back or only just rested. And you walked out on the seventh day through the big gates and on your way to become one of the last, lonely and wretched. For once you were a child. Your cheeks were red, you were well fed. You laughed and played till you got teary, ran to your mother when you were weary. But somewhere you were forsaken alone I'll not bear the blame and somehow all was taken, your mind, your body, your name. Forgive us our unkindness, our desertion and our blindness, with you, all the last, lonely and wretched. Forgive us, all the last, lonely and wretched. ⓒ 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
Outside the Nashville city limits a friend and I did drive, on a day in early winter I was glad to be alive. We went to see some friends of his who lived upon a farm. Strange and gentle country folk who would wish nobody harm. Fresh-cut sixty acres, eight cows in the barn. But the thing that I remember on that cold day in December was that my eyes they did brim over as we talked. In the slowest drawl I had ever heard the man said "Come with me if y'all wanna see the prettiest place in all of Tennesee." He poured us each a glass of wine and a-walking we did go, along fallen leaves and crackling ice where a tiny brook did flow. He knew every inch of the land and Lord he loved it so. But the thing that I remember on that cold day in December was that my eyes were brimming over as we walked. He set my down upon a stone beside a running spring. He talked in a voice so soft and clear like the waters I heard sing. He said "We searched quite a time for a place to call our own. There was just me and Mary John and now I guess we're home." I looked at the ground and wondered how many years they each had roamed. And Lord I do remember on that day in late December how my eyes kept brimming over as we talked. As we walked. And standing there with outstretched arms he said to me "You know, I can't wait till the heavy storms cover the ground with snow, and there on the pond the watercress is all that don't turn white. When the sun is high you squint your eyes and look at the hills so bright." And nodding his head my friend said, "And it seems like overnight that the leaves come out so tender at the turning of the winter..." I thought the skies they would brim over as we talked. ⓒ 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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Lord his Daddy was an honest man, just a red dirt Georgia farmer
And his momma lived her short life having kids and baling hay He had fifteen years and he ached inside to wander So he jumped a freight at Waycross and wound up in LA. The cold nights had no pity on that Waycross, Georgia farm boy Most days he went hungry, and then the summer came He met a girl known on the strip as San Francisco's Mabel Joy Destitution's child, born of an LA. street called "Shame" Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy Laughter found their mornings brought a meaning to his life And the night before she left sleep came and left thatWaycross, country boy With dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife Sunday morning found him standing 'neath the red light at her door When a right cross sent him reeling, put him face down on the floor And in place of his Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marine Who growled, "Your Georgia neck is red but Sonny you're still green" He turned twenty-one in a grey rock federal prison The old judge had no mercy on that Waycross, Georgia boy Staring at those four grey walls, in silence he would listen To the midnight freight he knew would take him back to Mabel Joy Sunday morning found him lying 'neath the red light at her door With a bullet in his side, he cried "Have you seen Mabel Joy!" Stunned and shaken someone said "Son, she don't live here no more She left this house four years today, they say she's looking for ... Some Georgia farm boy |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
The music stopped in my hand my hand my hand Sadly smiled the band the band the band Softly echoes your laughter riddled with tears When time is stolen it flies it flies it flies Lovers leave in disguise disguise disguise Weariness hangs like a curtain heavy and old heavy and cold. It is said to never look back look back look back To shadows you left on the track the track the track Gather your roses and run the long way around And if time should ever be right my love my love I'll come to you in the night my love my love But now there is only the sorrow parting is near parting is here parting is here parting is here ⓒ 1971, 1978 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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Heaven help the child who never had a home
Heaven help the girl who walks the streets alone Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall Heaven help us all Heaven help the black man if he struggles one more day Heaven help the white man if he turns his back away Heaven help the people with their backs against the wall Heaven help us all Heaven help us all, Heaven help us all, Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we call, heaven help us all Heaven help the boy who won't reach twenty-one Heaven help the man who gave that boy a gun Heaven help the man who kicks the man who has to crawl Heaven help us all Heaven help us all, Heaven help us all Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we call, heaven help us all Now I lay me down before I go to sleep In this troubled world, I pray the Lord to keep, Keep hatred from the mighty, and the mighty from the small Heaven help us all Heaven help us all, Heaven help us all, Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we call, heaven help us all |
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Yesterday's newspapers forecast no rain for today
But yesterday's news is old news, the skies are all grey Winter's in labour, soon to give birth to the spring That will sprinkle the meadow with flowers for my Angeline Heartache and sorrow and sadness unendingly find Wings on a memory and with them she flies to my mind She stretched her arms for a moment then went back to sleep While the morning stood watching me, ever so silently weak She opened her eyes, Lord, the minute my feet touched the floor The cold hard wood creaked with each step that I made to the door There I turned to her gently and said, Look, Hon, it's spring" Knowing outside the window the winter looked for Angeline Yesterday's newspapers forecast no rain for today But yesterday's news is old news, the skies are all grey... Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm |
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Take the ribbon from my hair
Shake it lose and let it fall Layin soft upon your skin Like the shadows on the wall Come and lay down by my side Till the early morning light All I'm taking is your time Help me make it through the night I don't care who's right or wrong I don't try to understand Let the devil take tomorrow Lord tonight I need a friend Yersterday is dead and gone And tomorrow's out of sight It's so sad to be alone Help me make it trough the night I don't care who's right or wrong I don't try to understand Let the devil take tomorrow Lord tonight I need a friend Yersterday is dead and gone And tomorrow's out of sight It's so sad to be alone Help me make it trough the night |
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When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness She is standing right in front of me Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. And when the broken hearted people Living in the world agree, There will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted There is still a chance that they will see There will be an answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Yeah Let it be, let it be. There will be an answer, let it be. And when the night is cloudy, There is still a light that shines on me, Shines until tomorrow, let it be. I wake up to the sound of music Mother Mary sings to me There will be no sorrow, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. There will be no sorrow, let it be. Let it be, let it be, Let it be, let it be. There will be no sorrow, let it be. Let it be, let it be, Let it be, let it be. There will be no sorrow, let it be |
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Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the water.
Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea. Take a look at yourself and you can look at others differently, by puttin´ your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee. Every time I look into the holy book I wanna tremble, when I read about the part where a carpenter cleared the temple. For the buyers and the sellers where no different fellas, than what I profess to be, and it causes me pain to know that I´m not the gal that I should be. Mama taught me how to pray before I reached the age of seven. And when I´m down on my knees that´s a when I´m close to heaven. Daddy lived his life, with two kids and a wife you do what you must do, but he showed me enough of what it takes to get you through. + put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee. (Joan Baez) |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
The grey quiet horse wears the reins of dawn, and nobody knows what mountain he's from. In his mouth he carries the golden key, and nobody sees him but Gabriel and me. Gabriel and me. His nose is silver and his mane is white, his eyes are black and starry like night. So softly he splashes his hoofs in the sea, that nobody hears him but Gabriel and me. Gabriel and me. He comes in the morning when the air is still, he races the sun and he always will. We raise up the window and call through the trees, oh we'd love to fly with you, Gabriel and me. Gabriel and me. For your back is wingless and there's room for two, we'll mount from a tree and ride straight on through. But I guess you're wiser than I thought you'd be, for you never will listen to Gabriel and me. Gabriel and me. For you know that one day we'll forget to wake, call it destiny, call it fate. You'll nuzzle us softly and so silently, we'll ride in the morning, Gabriel and me, with the golden key. Gabriel and me, forever to the sea. ⓒ 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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Today, there's no salvation, the band's packed up and gone
Left me standing with my penny in my hand there's a big crowd at the station where the blind man sings his song But he can see what they cant understand. (CHORUS) Its the thirty-third of August and I'm finally touching down Eight days from Sunday finds me Saturday bound. Once I stumbled through the darkness, tumbled to my knees A thousand voices screaming in my brain Woke up in a squad car, busted down for vagrancy Outside my cell as sure as hell, it looked like rain. But now I've got my dangerous feelings under lock and chain Guess I killed my violent nature with a smile Though the demons danced and sang their song within my fevered brain Not all my God-like thoughts, Lord, were defiled |
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(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
The cats are sleeping here in the autumn sun. Your dog has flushed a deer and he's on the run. And the coffee cup is cold and the morning's feeling very old. Fifteen months of time my man's been gone. The second winter now is coming on. And our fates could all be worse But sometimes I still must curse my own. And hello I wish you well where you sleep all in your cell. As for friends I can't complain, they've been good to me. The fire's burning bright, they've left wood for me. And the roof has been repaired. And I thank them for the love they've shared. You see, there's really nothing wrong, I've just got the blues. Because if you give a damn you're going to pay some dues. But if you see the game we're in like I do, you know in time we'll win. And hello I wish you well where you sleep all in your cell. So time give me a break of a week or more. My head is reeling and my back is sore. And the baby cries for me. And I think I'll walk by the sea alone. ⓒ 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP) |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
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