Luyện nghe bài hát Where Are You Now My Son

(Words and Music by Baez)

walking to the battleground that always makes me cry
I've met so few folks in my who weren't afraid to die
But dawn bleeds with the people here and morning are red
As young girls load up with flowers for the dead

An aging woman picks the craters and the rubble
A piece of cloth, a bit of shoe, a lifetime of trouble
A sobbing chant comes from her and splits the morning air
The single son she had last night is buried her

They say the war is done
are you now, my son?

An old man with unsteady gait and of ancient white
Bent to the ground with outstretched faltering in his plight
I his hand to steady him, he stood and did not turn
But smiled and and bowed and mumbled softly, "Danke shoen"

The children on the roadsides of the and towns
Would stand around us laughing as we stood like giant
The mourning bands told they'd lost by last night's phantom messenger
And they spoke only words in English, "Johnson, Nixon, Kissinger"

Now that the war's won
are you now, my son?

The siren gives a running break to those who in town
the children and the blankets to the concrete underground
Sometimes we'd sing and joke and paint bright pictures on the
And wonder if we die well and if we'd loved at all

The helmetless defiant ones sit on the curb and
At tracers flashing the sky and planes bursting in air
But way out in the villages no comes before a blast
That means a sleeping child will make it to the door

The of our youth were fun
are you now, my son?

From the cabins in the sky where no man hears the sound
Of death on from his own bombs, six pilots were shot down
day six hulking bandaged men were dazzled by a room
Of newsmen. Sally keep the faith, let's hope this war soon

In a damaged camp where they no longer had command
They shook their heads, what irony, we peace was at hand
The preacher a Christmas prayer and the men kneeled on the ground
sheepishly asked me to sing "They Drove Old Dixie Down"

Yours was the gun
Where are you now, my

We gathered in the celebrating Chrismas Eve
The French, the Poles, the Indians, Cubans and
The tiny tree our host had fixed sweetened psalms
But the most of Christmas prayers was shattered by the bombs

So into the shelter where two lovely women rose
And with a and a fierceness and a gentleness which froze
The rest of us to silence as their soared with joy
Outshining every bomb that fell night upon Hanoi

With bravery we sun
But where are you now, my

Oh people of the shelters a gift you've given me
To smile at me and let me share your agony
And I can bow in utter humbleness and ask
Forgiveness and forgiveness for the things we've brought to

The black pyjama'd that we tried to kill with pellet holes
And rows of tiny coffins we've paid for with our
built a spirit seldom seen in women and in men
And the white flower of Bac Mai will surely blossom again

heard that the war is done
Then are you now, my son?

1973 Chandos (ASCAP)