Luyện nghe bài hát Where Are You Now My Son

(Words and Music by Baez)

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

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

say that the war is done
Where are you now, my

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

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

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

The siren gives a running break to who live in town
Take the children and the blankets to the underground
Sometimes we'd sing and joke and paint bright on the wall
And wonder if we would die and if we'd loved at all

The helmetless ones sit on the curb and stare
At tracers flashing through the sky and bursting in air
But way out in the villages no warning comes a blast
That means a sleeping child will never it to the door

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

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

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

Yours was the gun
Where are you now, my

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

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

bravery we have sun
But are you now, my son?

Oh people of the what a gift you've given me
To smile at me and quietly let me 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 culture that we tried to kill pellet holes
And rows of tiny coffins we've paid for our souls
Have built a seldom seen in women and in men
And the flower of Bac Mai will surely blossom once again

I've heard the war is done
Then where are you now, my

1973 Chandos (ASCAP)