Joan Baez Album

(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)

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)

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

(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)

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

(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)

Been a slave most all my life
So's my kids, and so's my wife
I've been working on the Colonel's farm
Ain't been mistreated, ain't done no harm
I'll be a slave to my grave
No need of me being free

Recollect when I was just fourteen
Freedom used to be my biggest dream
I'm older now, lot wiser too
If I was free what would I do
The Colonel's been right good to me
He's taken care of my family

The Colonel rode the buggy in from town
Hitched the horse and called us all around
Said he couldn't keep us here no more
I saw a tear as he walked toward the door
Oh Dear God, what did he say?
Now I am free to go my way

(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)

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

(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)

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

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

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

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

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)

(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)

Marie, Marie Flore was a small girl of ten whom I met in the south end of France
Stepping out of a crowd was the daughter of someone with flowers for me, we were friends at a glance
She spoke no English but sat by my side in the car
And pointed out places en route to the village of Arles

Marie, Marie Flore came to table that night as I dined in an ancient hotel
The room was all fitted with things from the seventeenth century and they suited her well
She would eat nothing but sat in her chair like a queen
And laughed at my French but seemed always to know what I mean

Marie, Marie Flore came to hear me that night when I sang for the people of Arles
She stood back in the shadows of a ruined arena, her frame in my mind was never too far
In the rush that did follow, I found she was holding my hand
And ushering me through an evening the elders had planned
Marie, Marie Flore, I will always remember your eyes, your smile, and your grace
The gold that flowed with your laughter remain to enlighten the image I have of your face
For I have seen children whose faces are wiser than time
And you, my Marie, are most certainly one of that kind

Marie, Marie Flore, all the odds say I'll see you again, by plan or by chance
But if not, you'll be there when I'm dreaming of rain over Paris, or sun in the south end of France
Marie, Marie, Marie Flore...

(Words and Music by Joan Baez)

When the mist rolls in on Highway One
like a curtain to the day
A thousand silhouettes hold out their thumbs
and I see them and I say
You are my children
my sweet children
I am your poet.

With hair just like the burning tree of Moses
the girl beside you is your twin
Behind your fiery make-up you should know this
I am your sister, I am your kin, your flesh and kin
I'll write this tune
in matching phrases
just to show it

You are the orphans in an age
of no tomorrows
and with your walking you wage a war
against the sorrows
Your fathers left you
a row to hoe
and you'll hoe it.

If I could write you easy directions
on a list
you would not read it, you could not see it
for the mist
Besides my pen is
very righteous
and I know it.

So walk to the edges of a dying kingdom
There's one more summer just around the bend
The amber in your smile is brave and winsome
for though your highway has no end, it never ends
There is still the sky
the windy cliff
and the sea below it
I'd take an angel's ram horn trumpet
and I'd blow it
I'd blow it.

© 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP)

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

(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)

[No lyrics]

The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges are packed in the creosote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

My father's own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees
They rode the big trucks till they lay down and die

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning, and it shook all the hills
Who are these comrades that died like the dry leaves
The radio tells me they're just deportees

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

We died in your hills and we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys we died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river we died just the same

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
But it's six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves and rot on the top soil
and be called by no name except "deportee"

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees