Luyện nghe bài hát Where Are You Now My Son

(Words and Music by Baez)

It's walking to the battleground that makes me cry
I've met so few folks in my time who afraid to die
But dawn bleeds with the people here and skies are red
As girls load up bicycles with flowers for the dead

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

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

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

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

Now that the being won
are you now, my son?

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

The helmetless defiant ones sit on the and stare
At tracers flashing through the sky and planes in air
But way out in the villages no warning before a blast
That means a sleeping will never make it to the door

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

From the distant cabins in the sky no man hears the sound
Of on earth 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, hope this war ends soon

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

was the righteous gun
Where are you now, my

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

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

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

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

The black culture that we tried to kill with pellet holes
And rows of tiny we've paid for with our souls
Have built a seldom seen in women and in men
And the white flower of Bac Mai will surely once again

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

1973 Chandos (ASCAP)