Joan Baez - Where Are You Now, My Son? Lyrics
It's walking to the battleground that always makes me cryI've met so few folks in my time who weren't afraid to dieBut dawn bleeds with the people here and morning skies are redAs young girls load up bicycles with flowers for the deadAn aging woman picks along the craters and the rubbleA piece of cloth, a bit of shoe, a whole lifetime of troubleA sobbing chant comes from her throat and splits the morning airThe single son she had last night is buried under herThey say that the war is doneWhere are you now, my son?An old man with unsteady gait and beard of ancient whiteBent to the ground with arms outstretched faltering in his plightI took his hand to steady him, he stood and did not turnBut smiled and wept and bowed and mumbled softly, "Danke shoen"The children on the roadsides of the villages and townsWould stand around us laughing as we stood like giant clownsThe mourning bands told whom they'd lost by last night's phantom messengerAnd they spoke their only words in English, "Johnson, Nixon, Kissinger"Now that the war's being wonWhere are you now, my son?The siren gives a running break to those who live in townTake the children and the blankets to the concrete undergroundSometimes we'd sing and joke and paint bright pictures on the wallAnd wonder if we would die well and if we'd loved at allThe helmetless defiant ones sit on the curb and stareAt tracers flashing through the sky and planes bursting in airBut way out in the villages no warning comes before a blastThat means a sleeping child will never make it to the doorThe days of our youth were funWhere are you now, my son?From