Phil Ochs - All The News That`S Fit To Sing & I Ain`T Marching Anymore (2008) by Phil Ochs (보컬) on maniadb.com

One More Parade
Phil Ochs
Written by Phil Ochs and Bob Gibson


Hup, two, three, four, marchin' down the street
Rollin' of the drums and the trampin' of the feet
General salutes and the mothers wave and weep
Here comes the big parade
Don't be afraid, price is paid
One more parade

In Portsmouth town
On the eastern shore
Where many a fine ship was born

The Thresher was built
And the Thresher was launched
And the crew of the Thresher was sworn

She was shaped like a tear
She was built like a shark
She was made to run fast and free

And the builders shook their hands
And the builders shared their wine
Thought that they had mastered the sea

Yes, she'll always run silent
And she'll always run deep
Though the ocean has no pity
Though the waves will never weep
They'll never weep

And they marveled at her speed
And they marveled at her depth
And they marveled at her deadly design

And they sailed to every land
And they sailed to every port
Just to see what faults they could find

Then they put her on the land
For nine months to stand
And they worked on her from stem to stern

But they could never see
It was their coffin to be
For the sea was waiting for their return

Yes, she'll always run silent
And she'll always run deep
Though the ocean has no pity
Though the waves will never weep
They'll never weep

On a cold Wednesday morn
They put her out to sea
When the waves they were nine feet high

And they dove beneath the waves
And they dove to their graves
And they never said a last goodbye

And it's deeper and deeper
And deeper they dove
Just to see what their ship could stand

But the hull gave a moan
And the hull gave a groan
And they plunged to the deepest darkest sand

Now she lies in the depths
Of the darkened ocean floor
Covered by the waters cold and still

Oh, can't you see the wrong?
She was a death ship all along
Died before she had a chance to kill

And she'll never run silent
And she'll never run deep
For the ocean had no pity
And the waves they never weep
They never weep

Sailing over to Vietnam,
Southeast Asian Birmingham.
Well training is the word we use,
Nice word to have in case we lose.
Training a million Vietnamese
To fight for the wrong government and the American Way.

Well they put me in a barracks house
Just across the way from Laos.
They said you're pretty safe when the troops deploy
But don't turn your back on your house boy
When they ring the gong, watch out for the Viet-Cong.

Well the sergeant said it's time to train
So I climbed aboard my helicopter plane.
We flew above the battle ground
A sniper tried to shoot us down.
He must have forgotten, we're only trainees.
Them Commies never fight fair.

Friends the very next day we trained some more
We burned some villages down to the floor.
Yes we burned out the jungles far and wide,
Made sure those red apes had no place left to hide.
Threw all the people in relocation camps,
Under lock and key, made damn sure they're free.

Well I walked through the jungle and around the bend
Who should I meet but President Diem.
Said you're fighting to keep Vietnam free
For good old de-em-moc-ra-cy (Diem-ocracy).
That means rule by one family
And 15,000 American troops, give or take a few
Thousand.
American.
Troops.

He said, "I was a fine old Christian man
Ruling this backward Buddhist land.
Well it ain't much but what the heck
It sure beats hell out of Chiang Kai-shek
I'm the power elite. Me and the 7th fleet."

He said, "Meet my sister, Madam Nhu
The sweetheart of Dien Bien Phu"
He said, "Meet my brothers, meet my aunts
With the government that doesn't take a chance.
Families that slay together, stay together."

Said, "If you want to stay you'll have to pay
Over a million dollars a day.
But it's worth it all, don't you see?
If you loose the country you'll still have me.
Me and Syngman Rhee, Chiang Kai-shek, Madam Nhu.
Like I said on Meet the Press
'I regret that I have but one country to give for my life.'

Well now old Dien is gone and dead
All the new leaders are anti-Red.
Yes they're pro-American, freedom sensations
Against Red China, the United Nations.
Now all the news commentators and the CIA
are saying, "Thank God for coincidence."

On the streets of New York city when the hour was getting late
There were young men armed with knives and guns, young men armed with hate
And Lou Marsh stepped between them and died there in his tracks
For one man is no army when the city turns its back

Now the streets are empty, now the streets are dark
So keep an eye on shadows and never pass the park
For the city is a jungle when the law is out of sight
And death lurks in El Barrio with the orphans of the night

He left behind a chamber of a church he served so long
For he learned the prayers of distant men will never right the wrongs
His church became an alley and his pulpit was the street
He made his congregation from the boys he used to meet

There were two gangs approaching in spanish Harlem town
The smell of blood was in the air, the challenge was laid down
He felt their blinding hatred, and he tried to save their lives
And the answer that they gave him was their fists and feet and knives

Will Lou Marsh lie forgotten in his cold and silent grave?
Will his memory still linger on, in those he tried to save?
All of us who knew him will now and then recall
And shed a tear on poverty, tombstone of us all

When the wind from the island is rollin' through the trees

When a kiss from a prison cell is carried in the breeze

That's when I wonder how sad a man can be.

Oh, when will Celia come to me?

I still remember the mountains of the war
Sierra Madre and the Philipino shore
When will I lie beside my Celia 'neath the trees?
Oh, when will Celia come to me?

So many years were stolen, so many years are gone
And the vision of my Celia make dreams to dream upon
Each hour is a day filled with memories.
Oh, when will Celia come to me?

I wake each morning and I watch the sun arise
Wonder if my Celia sleeps, wonder if she cries
If hate must be my prison lock, love must be the key
Oh, when will Celia come to me?

The guns have stopped their firing, you may wander through the hills
They kept my Celia through the war, they keep her from me still.
She waits upon island now, a prisoner of the sea.
Oh, when will Celia come to me?

When the wind from the island is rolling through the trees
When a kiss from a prison cell is carried in the breeze
That's when I wonder how sad a man can be.
Oh, when will Celia come to me?
Oh, when will Celia come to me?



Notes:

Hear the sledges with the bells
Silver bells
What a world of merriment
Their melody foretells

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle
In the icy air of night
All the heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight

Keeping time, time, time
With a sort of Runic rhyme
From the tintinnabulation
That so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells
Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells

What a world of happiness
Their harmony foretells
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight
Through the dances and the yells
And the rapture that impels

How it swells
How it dwells
On the future
How it tells

From the swinging and the ringing
Of the molten golden bells
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Of the rhyming and the chiming of the bells

Hear the loud alarm bells
Brazen bells
What a tale of terror now
Their turbulency tells

Much too horrified to speak
Oh, they can only shriek
For all the ears to know
How the danger ebbs and flows

Leaping higher, higher, higher
With a desperate desire
In a clamorous appealing
To the mercy of the fire

With the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
With the clamor and the clanging of the bells
Hear the tolling of the bells
Iron bells

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels
For all the sound that floats
From the rust within our throats
And the people sit and groan
In their muffled monotone

And the tolling, tolling, tolling
Feels a glory in the rolling
From the throbbing and the sobbing
Of the melancholy bells

Oh, the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Oh, the moaning and the groaning of the bells

Oh, I laid down your railroads, every mile of track
With the muscles on my arm and the sweat upon my back
And now the trains are rolling, they roll to every shore
You tell me that my job is through, there ain't no work no more

Though I laid down your highways all across the land
With the ringing of the steel and the power of my hands
And now the roads are there like ribbons in the sky
You tell me that my job is through but still I wonder why

For the wages were low and the hours were long
And the labor was all I could bear
Now you've got new machines for to take my place
And you tell me it's not mine to share

Though I laid down your factories and laid down your fields
With my feet on the ground and my back to your wheels
And now the smoke is rising, the steel is all a-glow
I'm walking down a jobless road and where am I to go

For the wages were low and the hours were long
And the labor was all I could bear
Now you've got new machines for to take my place
And you tell me it's not mine to share

Though I laid down your factories and laid down your fields
With my feet on the ground and my back to your wheels
And now the smoke is rising, the steel is all a-glow
I'm walking down a jobless road and where am I to go

Tell me, where am I to go

Well, it's of a bold reporter whose story I will tell
He went down to the Cuban land, the nearest place to hell
He'd been there many times before, but now the law does say
The only way to Cuba is with the CIA
William Worthy isn't worthy to enter our door
Went down to Cuba, he's not American anymore
But somehow it is strange to hear the State Department say
You are living in the free world, in the free world you must stay
Five thousand dollars or a five year sentence may well be
For a man who had the nerve to think that travelin' is free
Oh why'd he waste his time to see a dictator's reign
When he could have seen democracy by travelin' on to Spain?
William Worthy isn't worthy to enter our door
Went down to Cuba, he's not American anymore
But somehow it is strange to hear the State Department say
You are living in the free world, in the free world you must stay
So, come all you good travelers and fellow-travelers, too
Yes, and travel all around the world, see every country through
I'd surely like to come along and see what may be new
But my passport's disappearing as I sing these words to you
Well, there really is no need to travel to these evil lands
Yes, and though the list grows larger you must try to understand
Try hard not to be surprised if someday you should hear
The whole world is off limits, visit Disneyland this year
William Worthy isn't worthy to enter our door
Went down to Cuba, he's not American anymore
But somehow it is strange to hear the State Department say
You are living in the free world, in the free world you must stay

In many a time, in many a land,
With many a gun in many a hand,
They came by the night, they came by the day,
Came with their guns to take us away

With a knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
One more.

Back in the days of the Roman Empire,
They died by the cross and they died by the fire.
In the stone coliseum, the crowd gave a roar,
And it all began with that knock on the door

Just a knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
One more.

The years have all passed, we've reached modern times,
The Nazis have come with their Nazi war crimes.
Yes the power was there, the power was found,
Six million people have heard that same sound

That old knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
One more.

Now there's many new words and many new names,
The banners have changed but the knock is the same.
On the Soviet shores with right on their side,
I wonder who knows how many have died

With their knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
One more.

Look over the oceans, look over the lands,
Look over the leaders with the blood on their hands.
And open your eyes and see what they do,
When they knock over their friend they're knocking for you

With their knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
With their knock on the door, knock on the door.
Here they come to take one more,
One more.

It was just a little while ago, I glued my ears to the radio
The announcer was sayin' we'd better beware
A crisis was hanging, a wave up in the air
Crawlin' on the ground, swimmin' in the sea, headin' for me

Well, I didn't know if I was for or agin' it
He was yellin' and screamin' a mile a minute
Well, he said "Here comes the President
But first this word from Pepsodent
Have whiter teeth, have cleaner breath
When you're facin' nuclear death"

And then President John began to speak
And I knew right away he wouldn't be weak
Well, he said he'd seen some missile bases
And terrible smiles on Cuban faces
Close pictures, carryin' land reform too far
Giving land to the USSR

Well, he said we mustn't be afraid
We're settin' up a little blockade
Put our ships along the Cuban shores
And if the Russian bear yells and roars
We'll let him have it

From Turkey and Greece, Formosa and Spain
The peaceful West European Plain
From Alaska and Greenland we'll use our means
And twenty thousand submarines
We're gonna teach the Russians a lesson
For trying to upset the balance of power

Now most Americans stood behind
The President and his military minds
But me, I stood behind a bar
Dreamin' of a spaceship getaway car
Head for mars, any other planet that has bars
Like Gerde's Folk City

Yes, it seemed the stand was strong and plain
But some Republicans was a goin' insane
And they still are, well, they said our plan was just too mild
Spare the rod and spoil the child
Let's sink Cuba into the sea
And give 'em back democracy under the water

Well, the deadline was set for ten o'clock
For a cold war it was a gettin' hot
Well, the Russians tried, the Russians failed
Homeward bound those missiles sailed
Mr. Khruschev said, "Better Red than dead"

He walked all over his own growin' land

From the New York island to the California sand

He saw all the people that needed to be seen

Planted all the grass where it needed to be green

And now he's bound for a glory all his own

And now he is bound for glory

He wrote and he sang and he rode upon the rails
And he got on board when the sailors had to sail
He said all the words that needed to be said
He fed all the hungry souls that needed to be fed

(chorus)

He sang in our streets and he sang in our halls
And he was always there when the unions gave a call
He did all the jobs that needed to be done
He always stood his ground when a smaller man would run
(chorus)

And its Pastures of Plenty wrote the dustbowl balladeer
And This Land is Your Land, he wanted us to hear
And the risin' of the unions will be sung about again
And the Deportees live on through the power of his pen
(chorus)

Now they sing out his praises on every distant shore
But so few remember what he was fightin' for
Oh why sing the songs and forget about the aim?
He wrote them for a reason, why not sing them for the same
(chorus)


Notes:

In the state of Mississippi many years ago

A boy of 14 years got a taste of southern law

He saw his friend a hanging and his color was his crime

And the blood upon his jacket left a brand upon his mind


CHORUS: Too many martyrs and too many dead

Too many lies too many empty words were said

Too many times for too many angry men

Oh let it never be again

His name was Medgar Evers and he walked his road alone
Like Emmett Till and thousands more whose names we'll never know
They tried to burn his home and they beat him to the ground
But deep inside they both knew what it took to bring him down
*chorus*

The killer waited by his home hidden by the night
As Evers stepped out from his car into the rifle sight
he slowly squeezed the trigger, the bullet left his side
It struck the heart of every man when Evers fell and died.
*chorus*

And they laid him in his grave while the bugle sounded clear
laid him in his grave when the victory was near
While we waited for the future for freedom through the land (*)
The country gained a killer and the country lost a man
*chorus*



Notes:

What's that I hear now ringing in my ear
I've heard that sound before
What's that I hear now ringing in my ear
I hear it more and more

It's the sound of freedom calling
Ringing up to the sky
It's the sound of the old ways falling
You can hear it if you try

You can hear it if you try
What's that I see now shining in my eyes
I've seen that light before
What's that I see now shining in my eyes

I see it more and more
It's the light of freedom shining
Shining up to the sky
It's the light of the old ways a dying

You can see it if you try
What's that I feel now beating in my heart
I've felt that beat before
What's that I feel now beating in my heart

I feel it more and more
It's the rumble of freedom calling
Climbing up to the sky
It's the rumble of the old ways a falling

You can feel it if you try

The peons of Mexico long have known suffering and pain.
Zapata and Villa have died there, fighting in vain.
Rube'n Jaramillo kept up the tradition, he fought for the land once again.
He lived for the land, and there on the land he was slain.

A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
But all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.

The greedy capiques* have stolen and plundered the land,
With pistoleros they ruled with a cold iron hand.
The poor campesinos could stand it no longer, resistance was starting to grow.
Jaramillo decided to fight for a new Mexico.

A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
But all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.

For twenty long years he fought and he struggled and tried,
Epifania, his wife, always there at his side.
Often surrounded, he always was hounded, they searched for him near, far, and wide:
A man of deep sorrow, but also a man of deep pride.

A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
But all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.

Two thousand peasants he led to their long-promised land,
And the army's revenge killed the wife and the sons and the man.
His assasins rejoiced with their whiskey and women, they laughed and they danced on his grave.
Now the land waits again for another to ride on the waves.

A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
But all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.

Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain't marchin' anymore

For I've killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying I saw many more dying
But I ain't marchin' anymore

chorus)
It's always the old to lead us to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes I even killed my brothers
And so many others But I ain't marchin' anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain't marchin' anymore

(chorus)

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning I knew that I was learning
That I ain't marchin' anymore

Now the labor leader's screamin'
when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it "Peace" or call it "Treason,"
Call it "Love" or call it "Reason,"
But I ain't marchin' any more,
No I ain't marchin' any more

In the heat of the summer
F a
When the pavements were burning
Dm c dm
The soul of a city was ravaged in the night
Gm dm
After the city sun was sinkin'

Dm gm dm
Now no one knows how it started
F a
Why the windows were shattered
Dm c dm
But deep in the dark, someone set the spark
Gm dm
And then it no longer mattered.

Dm gm dm
Down the streets they were rumbling
F a
All the tempers were ragin
Dm c dm
Oh, where, oh, where are the white silver tongues
Gm dm
Who forgot to listen to the warnings?

Dm gm dm
On and on come the angry
F a
No longer following reason
Dm c dm
And all the stores were the target now
Gm dm
Where just the other day they were buyin

Dm gm dm
Drunk with the memory of the ghetto
F a
Drunk with the lure of the looting
Dm c dm
And the memory of the uniforms shoving with their sticks
Gm dm
Asking, are you looking for trouble?

Dm gm dm
No, no, no, moaned the mayor.
F a
It's not the way of the order.
Dm c dm
Oh stay in your homes, please leave us alone
Gm dm
We'll be glad to talk in the morning.

Dm gm dm
For shame, for shame, wrote the papers.
F a
Why the hurry to your hunger?
Dm c dm
Now the rubble's resting on your broken streets
Gm dm
So you see what your rage has unraveled.

Dm gm dm
Baricades sadly were risin
F a
Bricks were heavily flyin
Dm c dm
And the loudspeaker drowned like a whisperin' sound
Gm dm
When compared to the angered emotions

Dm gm dm
And when the fury was over
F a
And the shame was replacing the anger.
Dm c dm
So wrong, so wrong, but we've been down so long
Gm dm
And we had to make somebody listen
Gm dm gm dm gm dm
In the heat of the summer......

Draft Dodger Rag
Phil Ochs
Written by Phil Ochs


Oh, I'm just a typical American boy from a typical American town
I believe in God and Senator Dodd and a-keepin' old Castro down
And when it came my time to serve I knew "better dead than red"
But when I got to my old draft board, buddy, this is what I said:

So you tell me that your last good dollar is goneA D Gand you say that your pockets are bare.G B7 Em E7And you tell me that your clothes are tattered and tornA A7 Dand nobody seems to care.B7 EmNow don't tell me your troubles,A D Gno I don't have the time to spare.B7 Em E7But if you want to get together and fightA D Ggood buddy that's what I want to hear.And you tell me that your job was taken awayby a big ol' greasy machine.And you tell me that you don't collect no more payand your belly is growing lean.Now if I had the jobs to giveyou know I'd give them all away.But don't waste your breath calling out my nameif you don't have nothing to say.
And you tell me that you don't have nothing to doand you keep on wasting your time.And you say when you want to get your family some foodyou gotta stand in a relief line.Now it's a sin and a bloody shame'bout the way they're pushing you 'round.But when you decide not to take no moreyou know I'll put my money down.'Cause I've seen your kind many times beforeAnd I'll see 'em many times again.Oh but every bad thing that's happened to youhas happened to better men.So don't explain that you've lost your waythat you've got no place to go.You've got a hand and a voice and you're not aloneBrother that's all you need to know.And if you're still wondering what I'm trying to saylet me tell you what it's all about.Now nobody listens to a single manwhen he's walkin' 'round down and out.So if you're looking for an answerhe's standing there by your side.And you'll never really know how far you'll go'til you join together and try.(Repeat first six lines)

The bullets of the false revenge have struck us once again
As the angry seas have struck upon the sand
And it seemed as though a friendless world had lost itself a friend
That was the President and that was the man.

I still can see him smiling there and waving at the crowd
As he drove through the music of the band
And never even knowing no more time would be allowed
Not for the President and not for the man.

Here's a memory to share, here's a memory to save
Of the sudden early ending of command
Yet a part of you and a part of me is buried in his grave
That was the President and that was the man.

It's not only for the leader that the sorrow hits so hard
There are greater things I'll never understand
How a man so filled with life, even death was caught off guard.
That was the President and that was the man.

Every thing he might have done and all he could have been
Was proven by the troubled traitors hand
For what other death could wound the hearts of so many men
That was the President and that was the man.

Yes, the glory that was Lincoln's never died when he was slain
It's been carried over time and time again
And to the list of honor you may add another name
That was the President and that was the man.
That was the President and that was the man.

Here is an older version of the song, supplied by Cody Gillespie-Lynch

On a South Pacific ocean, on a South Pacific shore,
A legend was written on the sand,
For a man of peace was born in the middle of a war,
That was the president, and that was the man.

With the wisdom of the old and the vision of the young,
A challenge was given to the land,
And our dreams of peace were spoken with a gifted, golden tongue,
That was the president, and that was the man.

When the freedom revolution gave a rumble and a roar,
The world was shown on which side he would stand,
For the first time in a hundred years he opened up the door,
That was the president, and that was the man.

When a hungry world was searching for a way to feed it's own,
The Peace Corps was offered as his plan,
And now these seeds of knowledge go wherever winds have blown,
That was the president, and that was the man.

Everything he might've done and all he could've been,
Was proven by the tainted traitor's hand,
For what other death could wound the hearts of so many men,
That was the president, and that was the man.

No end to all the sorrow and the hours we shall grieve,
So deep was the fire of his brand,
And still I can remember, and still I can't believe,
That was the president, and that was the man.

Yes, the glory that was Lincoln's never died when he was slain,
That glory shown with Roosevelt again,
And to this list of honor you may list another name,
For these were the presidents, and these were the men.

Have you seen the iron lady's charmsAm F DmLegs of steel, leather on her armsBb GmTaking on a man to dieAm DmA life for a life, an eye for an eyeBb Gm Dm CAnd death's the iron lady in the chairStop the murder, deter the crimes awayOnly killing shows that killing doesn't payYes that's the kind of law it takesEven though we make mistakesAnd sometimes send the wrong man to the chairIn the death row waiting for their turnNo time to change, not a chance to learnWaiting for someone to callSay it's over after allThey won't have to face the justice of the chair
Just before they serve him one last mealShave his head, they ask him how he feelsThen the warden comes to say goodbyeReporters come to watch him dieWatch him as he's strapped into the chairAnd the chaplain, he reads the final prayerBe brave my son, the Lord is waiting thereOh murder is so wrong you seeBoth the Bible and the courts agreeThat the state's allowed to murder in the chairIn the courtroom, watch the balance of the scalesIf the price is right, there's time for more appealsThe strings are pulled, the switch is stayedThe finest lawyers fees are paidAnd a rich man never died upon the chairHave you seen the iron lady's charmsLegs of steel, leather on her armsTaking on a man to dieA life for a life, an eye for an eyeThat's the iron lady in the chair

The wind was a torrent of darkness
Among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon
Tossed upon cloudy seas
And the road was a ribbon of moonlight
Over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding
Yes, the highwayman came riding
Up to the old inn door
Over the cobbles he clattered
And clashed in the darkened yard
And he tapped with his whip at the window
But all was locked and barred
So he whistled a tune to the window
And who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black eyed daughter
Bess the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love knot
Into her long black hair
One kiss, my bonny sweetheart
For I'm after a prize tonight
But I shall be back with the yellow gold
Before the morning light
Yet if they press me sharply
Harry me through the day
Oh, then look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by moonlight
And I'll come to thee by moonlight
Though Hell should bar the way
He did not come at the dawning
No, he did not come at the noon
And out of the tawny sunset
before the rise of the moon
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon
Looping the purple moor
Oh a redcoat troop came marching, marching, marching
King George's men came marching
Up to the old inn door
And they bound the landlord's daughter
with many a sniggering jest
And they bound the musket beside her
With the barrel beneath her breast
Now keep good watch and they kissed her
She heard the dead man say
"Oh look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by moonlight
And I'll come to thee by moonlight
Though Hell should bar the way"
Look for me by moonlight
Hoof beats ringing clear
Watch for me by moonlight
Were they deaf that they did not hear
For he rode on the gypsy highway
She breathed one final breath
Then her finger moved in the moonlight
Her musket shattered the moonlight
And it shattered her breast in the moonlight
And warned him with her death
Oh he turned; he spurred on to the west
He did not know who stood
Out with her black hair a flowing down
Drenched with her own red blood
Oh not 'til the dawn had he heard it
And his face grew gray to hear
How Bess the landlord's daughter
The landlord's black eyed daughter
Had watched for her love in the moonlight
And died in the darkness there
Back he spurred like a madman
Shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him
And his rapier brandished high
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon
Wine red his velvet coat
When they shot him down on the highway
Down like a dog on the highway
And he lay in his blood on the highway
With a bunch of lace at his throat
And still on a winter's night they say
When the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly galleon
Tossed upon cloudy seas
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight
Over the purple moor
Oh the highwayman comes riding, riding, riding
Yes the highwayman comes riding
Up to the old inn door.

Come you ranks of labor, come you union core,
C D A
And see if you remember the struggles of before,
F#m D E
When you were standing helpless on the outside of the door
Bm E A
And you started building links on the Chain.
Bm D E A
On the Chain, you started building links on the Chain.


When the police on the horses were waitin' on demand,
ridin' through the strike with the pistols in their hands,
Swingin' at the skulls of many a union man,
As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain,
As you built one more link on the chain.

Then the army of the fascists tried to put you on the run,
but the army of the union, they did what could be done,
Oh, the power of the factory was greater than the gun,
As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain,
As you built one more link on the chain.

And then in 1954, decisions finally made,
The black man was a-risin' fast and racin' from the shade,
And your union took no stand and your union was betrayed,
As you lost yourself a link on the chain, on the chain,
As you lost yourslef a link on the chain.

And then there came the boycotts and then the freedom rides,
And forgetting what you stood for, you tried to block the tide,
Oh, the automation bosses werre laughin' on the side,
As they watched you lose your link on the chain, on the chain,
As they watched you lose your link on the chain.


You know when they block your trucks boys, by layin' on the road,
All that they are doin' is all that you have showed,
That you gotta strike, you gotta fight to get what you are owed,
When you're building all your links on the chain, on the chain,
When you're building all your links on the chain.

Amd the man who tries to tell you that they'll take your job away,
He's the same man who was scabbin' hard just the other day,
And your union's not a union till he's thrown out of the way,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain, of the chain,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain.

For now the times are tellin' you the times are rollin' on,
And you're fighting for the same thing, the jobs that will be gone,
Now it's only fair to ask you boys, which side are you on?
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain, on the chain,
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain

From the flat plains of ohio we drifted out one day,

D g a
For the southern part of the journey

G d g d
Underneath the bridge, the ohio river sang

G a d
As we headed for the hills of west virginia

And the red sun of the morning was smiling through the trees,
As the darkness of the night was quickly fading,
And the fog hugged the road like a cloudy, cloudy sea,
As we drove though the hills of west virginia.

We smoked the tobacco and drank of the wine,
And we spoke of the forest we were passing.
And the road would wind and wind and wind,
When we drove through the hills of west virginia.

Among all the wealth of the beauty that we passed,
There was many old shacks a-growing older,
And we saw the broken bottles laying on the grass.
When we drove though the hills of west virginia.

The virginia people watched as we went riding by,
Oh, proud as a boulder they were standing.
And we wondered at each other with a meeting of the eye,
When we drove thought the hills of west virginia.

And once in a while we would stop by the road
And gaze at the womb of the valley,
Almost wishing for a path down below,
Where we stopped in the hills of west virginia.

Up and down and all around we took our restless ride,
And the rocks they were staring cold and jagged.
Where explosions of the powder had torn away the side,
Where we drove through the hills of west virginia.

And the orange sun was falling on the southern border line,
As the shadows of the night were now returning.
And we knew the mountains followed us and watched us from behind,
When we drove from the hills of west virginia.

Let's drink a toast to the admiral,
And here's to the captain bold,
And glory more for the commodore,
When the deeds of might are told.

They stand to the deck with the battle's wreck,
When the great shells roar and pound,
And never they fear when the foe is near
To lay their orders down--

But off with your hats and three times three
For every sailor's son,
For the men below who fight the foe,
The men behind the guns:
Oh, the men behind the guns.

Their hearts a-pounding heavy when
They swing to port once more --
With never enough of the greenback stuff,
They start for the leave ashore.

And you'd think perhaps the blue-blouse chaps
Had better clothes to wear,
For the uniforms of officers
Could hardly be compared:

Warriors bold with straps of gold
That dazzle like the sun
Outshine the common sailor boys,
The lads who serve the guns:
Oh, the men behind the guns.

Say not a word till the shot is heard
That tells the fight is on,
And the angry sound of another round
That says there must be God

Over the deep and the deadly sweep,
The fire and the bursting shell,
Where the very air is a mad despair,
The throes of a living hell.

But down and deep in a mighty ship
Unseen by the midday sun
You'll find the boys who make the noise,
The lads who serve the guns:
Oh, the men behind the guns.

And well they know the cyclone blow
Loose from the cannon's steel.
The know the hull of the enemy ship
Will quiver with the peal.

And the decks will rock with the lightning shock
And shake with the great recoil
While the sea grows red with the blood of the dead
And swallows up her spoil.

But not until the final ship
Has made her final run
Can we give their rest to the very best:
To the lads who serve the guns --
Oh, the men behind the guns.

Let's drink a toast to the admiral,
And here's to the captain bold,
And glory more for the commodore,
When the deeds of might are told.

They stand to the deck with the battle's wreck,
When the great shells roar and pound,
And never they fear when the foe is near
To lay their orders down--

But off with your hats and three times three
For every sailor's son,
For the men below who fight the foe,
The men behind the guns:
Oh, the man behind the gun.

SPOKEN: Well, I think, whenever there's a deep tragedy,
There's also present something of the ridiculous.
So I'd like to do you a song now,
Called "Talking Birmingham Jam."
Walkin' down to Birmingham, 'way down South in Dixie land,
I thought that I would stop awhile,
Take a vacation, Southern style.
Got some Southern hospitality,
Down there in a Southern hospital.

Well, all the signs there said, "Welcome in,
Welcome, if you're White, my friend.
Come along, and watch the fights;
Well, we feed our dogs on Civil Rights.
We believe in Segregation --
Negroes in one mob,
Policemen, politicians, dogs in the other!"

Well, I've seen travelin' many ways,
I've traveled in cars and old subways.
But in Birmingham, some people chose
The flight on the street from a fire hose,
Doin' some hard travelin',
From hydrants a-plenty!

Well, a pack of dogs was standin' by,
I walked up to them and I said "Hi."
Well, I asked one dog what they all were doin';
He walked up to me and started chewin' --
It was a black dog,
Seems ev'rybody down there is prejudiced!

Well, I said, "There must be some man around,
There can't be only you dogs in town."
They said, "Sure, we have Old Bull Connor,
There he goes, walkin' yonder,
Throwin' some raw meat to the Mayor,
Feedin' bones to the City Council!"

Well, I said, "There's still something missing here,
You must have a Governor, somewhere."
"Sure, he's done his duty, he ain't no fool,
He's blocking our kids from our schools,
Standin' in the doorway, crackin' jokes,
Gettin' re-elected!"

So I asked 'em how they spent their time
With Segregation on their mind.
They said, "If you don't like to live this way,
Get outa here, go back to the U.S.A,
Live with all them Russians,
New York agitators!"

Some say they'd passed their darkest hour,
Those moderates are back in power.
They'll listen close, with open ears,
They'll help us out in a couple a-hundred years;
But don't push 'em, whatever you do,
Or else you get those extremists back in!

You see, Alabama is a sovereign state,
With sovereign dogs and sovereign hate.
They stand for the Bible, for the Constitution,
They stand against Communist revolution.
They say, "It's Pinkoes like you
That free the slaves!"

Jesus was a working manC DmAnd a hero you will hearC Dm AmBorn in the town of BethlehemDm GmAt the turning of the yearA7 DmAt the turning of the yearWhen Jesus was a little ladStreets rang with his nameFor he argued with the older menAnd put them all to shameHe put them all to shameHe became a wandering journeymanAnd he traveled far and wideAnd he noticed how wealth and povertyLive always side by sideLive always side by sideSo he said "Come you working menFarmers and weavers tooIf you would only stand as oneThis world belongs to youThis world belongs to you"
When the rich men heard what the carpenter had doneTo the Roman troops they ranSaying put this rebel Jesus downHe's a menace to God and manHe's a menace to God and manThe commander of the occupying troopsJust laughed and then he said"There's a cross to spare on Calvaries hillBy the weekend he'll be deadBy the weekend he'll be dead"Now Jesus walked among the poorFor the poor were his own kindAnd they'd never let them get near enoughTo take him from behindTo take him from behindSo they hired one of the traders tradeAnd an informer was heAnd he sold his brother to the butchers menFor a fistful of silver moneyFor a fistful of silver moneyAnd Jesus sat in the prison cellAnd they beat him and offered him bribesTo desert the cause of his fellow manAnd work for the rich men's tribe,To work for the rich men's tribeAnd the sweat stood out on Jesus' browAnd the blood was in his eyeWhen they nailed his body to the Roman crossAnd they laughed as they watched him dieThey laughed as they watched him dieTwo thousand years have passed and goneMany a hero tooBut the dream of this poor carpenterRemains in the hands of youRemains in the hands of you

Oh, the shadows of doubt are in many a mind,
Am dm g
Lookin' for an answer they're never gonna find,
Em dm g
But they'd better decide 'cause they're runnin' out of time,
Dm g
For these are the days of decision.

Oh, the games of stalling you cannot afford,
Dark is the danger that's knocking on the door,
And the far-reaching rockets say you can't wait anymore,
For these are the days of decision.

In the face of the people who know they're gonna win,
There's a strength that's greater than the power od the wind,
And you can't stand around when the ice is growing thin,
For these are the days of decision.

I've seen your heads hinding 'neath the blankets of fear,
When the paths they are plain and the choices are clear,
But with each passing day, boys, the cost is more dear
For these are the days of decision.

There's many a cross that burns in the night,
And the fingers of the fire are pointing as they bite,
Oh you can't let the smoke keep on blinding all your sight,
For these are the days of decision.

Now the mobs of anger are roamin' the street,
From the rooftops they are aimin' at the police on the beat,
And in city after city you know they will repeat,
For these are the days of decision.

There's been warnin's of fire, warnin's of flood,
Now there's the warnin' of the bullet and the blood,
From the three bodies buried in the mississippi mud,
Sayin' these are the days of decision.

There's a change in the wind, and a split in the road,
You can do what's right or you can do what you are told,
And the prize of the victory will belong to the bold,
Yes, these are the days of decision.

Here's to the state of Mississippi,
For Underheath her borders, the devil draws no lines,
If you drag her muddy river, nameless bodies you will find.
whoa the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes,
the calender is lyin' when it reads the present time.
Whoa here's to the land you've torn out the heart of,
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!

And here's to the people of Mississippi
Who say the folks up north, they just don't understand
And they tremble in their shadows at the thunder of the Klan
The sweating of their souls can't wash the blood from off their hands
They smile and shrug their shoulders at the murder of a man
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the schools of Mississippi
Where they're teaching all the children that they don't have to care
All the rudiments of hatred are present everywhere
And every single classroom is a factory of despair
There's nobody learning such a foreign word as fair
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the cops of Mississippi
They're chewing their tobacco as they lock the prison door
Their bellies bounce inside them when they knock you to the floor
No they don't like taking prisoners in their private little war
Behind their broken badges there are murderers and more
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And, here's to the judges of Mississippi
Who wear the robe of honor as they crawl into the court
They're guarding all the bastions of their phony legal fort
Oh, justice is a stranger when the prisoners report
When the black man stands accused the trial is always short
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the government of Mississippi
In the swamp of their bureaucracy they're always bogging down
And criminals are posing as the mayors of the towns
And they hope that no one sees the sights and no one hears the sounds
And the speeches of the governor are the ravings of a clown
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the laws of Mississippi
Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay
While the Constitution is drowning in an ocean of decay
Unwed mothers should be sterilized, I've even heard them say
Yes, corruption can be classic in the Mississippi way
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here's to the churches of Mississippi
Where the cross, once made of silver, now is caked with rust
And the Sunday morning sermons pander to their lust
The fallen face of Jesus is choking in the dust
Heaven only knows in which God they can trust
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain't marchin' anymore

For I've killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying I saw many more dying
But I ain't marchin' anymore

chorus)
It's always the old to lead us to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes I even killed my brothers
And so many others But I ain't marchin' anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain't marchin' anymore

(chorus)

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning I knew that I was learning
That I ain't marchin' anymore

Now the labor leader's screamin'
when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it "Peace" or call it "Treason,"
Call it "Love" or call it "Reason,"
But I ain't marchin' any more,
No I ain't marchin' any more