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Joan Baez
Joan Baez





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Joan Baez Album


Joan (1967)
1967
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Be Not Too Hard

Be not too hard for life is short
And nothing is given to man.
Be not too hard when he is sold or bought,
For he must manage as best he can.
Be not too hard when he blindly dies
Fighting for things he does not own.
Be not too hard when he tells lies
Or if his heart is sometimes like a stone.
Be not too hard for soon he'll die,
Often no wiser than he began.
Be not too hard for life is short
And nothing is given to man.
And nothing is given to man.

. . .


Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?

Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near.
Look at him working. Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
What does he care?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

. . .


(Donovan Leitch)

1- Your smile - beams like sunlight - on a gull's wing
and the leaves - dance and play - after you
Take my hand - and hold it - as you would a flower
take care with my heart - oh darling - she's made of glass

2- Your eyes - feel like silence - resting on me
and the birds - cease to sing - when you rise
Ride easy - your fairy stallion - you have mounted
take care how you fly - my precious - you might fall down

4- In the pastel skies - the sunset - I have wandered
with my eyes and ears and heart - strained to the full
I know I tasted the essence - in the few days
take care who you love - my precious - he might not know

. . .


Why all these bugles cry
These squads of young men drill
To kill and to be killed
Stood waiting by the train

Why the orders loud and hoarse
Why the engine's groaning cough
As it strains to drag us all
Into the holocaust

Why crowds who sing and cry
And shout and fling us flowers
And trade their rights for ours
To murder and to die

CHORUS
The dove has torn her wing(s?)
So no more songs of love
We are not here to sing
We're here to kill the dove

Why must this moment come
When childhood has to die
When hope shrinks to a sigh
And speech into a drum

Why are they pale and still
Young boys trained over night
Concripts payed to kill
And dressed in gray to fight

These rainclouds massing tight
This train load battle bound
This moving burial ground
Goes thundering to the night

CHORUS

Why statues towering grave
Above the last defeat
Old words and lies repeat
Across a new made grave

And why the same still birds
That victory always brought
These hours of glory bought
By men with mounds of earth

Dead ash without a spark
Where cities used to be
Where guns probe every spark
And crush it into dust

CHORUS

And while your face undone
With jagged lines of tears
That gave in those first years
All the peace I'd ever want

Your body in the gloom
The platform fading back
Your shadow on the track
A flower upon a tomb

And why these days ahead
When I must let you cry
And live prepared to die
And to....

Chorus

. . .


It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our alliance.

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And the dangled conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our alliance.

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our alliance.

. . .


the lady cam from Baltimore
all she wore was lace
she didn't know that I was poor
she never saw my face

I was sent to steal her money
take her rings and run
but I fell in love with the lady
came away with none

the lady's name was Suzanne Moore
her daddy read her law
she didn't know that I was poor
livin' outside the law

I was sent to steal her money
take her rings and run
but I fell in love with the lady
came away with none

her daddy said I was a thief
and didn't have her love(?)
but I (that?) was Suzanne's true belief
I married her for love (?)

I was sent to steal her money
take her rings and run
but I fell in love with the lady
came away with none

the way she lived in ?
to keep the robbers out
she never stop to think it all
that's what I'm about

I was sent to steal her money
take her rings and run
but I fell in love with the lady
came away with none

. . .


(Music by Joan Baez, Lyrics by Nina Duscheck)

Where icicles hung the blossoms swing,
but in my heart there is no spring.
You were my spring, my summer too,
it's always winter without you.

The flocks head north and the lilacs bloom,
at night they scent my moonlit room.
You were my spring, my summer too,
I'm going north to look for you.

Like a windblown bird my heart goes forth,
sent by the spring to the shining north.
You are my spring, my summer too,
and I won't rest till I find you.

© 1967 Robbins Music Corporation and Chandos Music (ASCAP)
Rights throughout the world controlled by Robbins Music Corporation

. . .


(words by Richard Farina)

Oh, now is the time for your loving, dear,
And the time for your company
Now when the light of reason fails
And fires burn on the sea
Oh, now in this age of confusion
I have need for your company.

For I am a wild and a lonely child
And the son of an angry man
Now with the high wars raging
I would offer you my hand
For we are the children of darkness
And the prey of a proud, proud land.

It's once I was free to go roaming in
The wind of the springtime mind
And once the clouds I sailed upon
Were sweet as lilac wine
Oh, why are the breezes of summer, dear
Enlaced with a grim design?

So, now is the time for your loving, dear,
And the time for your company
Now when the light of reason fails
And fires burn on the sea
Oh, now in this age of confusion
I have need for your company.
....................................

the original song of RICHARD FARINA
(copyright Whitmark and Sons) is the following

Now is the time for your loving, dear,
And the time for your company
Now when the light of reason fails
And fires burn on the sea
Now in this age of confusion
I have need for your company.

It's once I was free to go roaming in
The wind of the springtime mind
It's once the clouds I sailed upon
Were sweet as lilac wine
So why are the breezes of summer, dear
Enlaced with a grim design?

And where was the will of my father when
We raised our swords on high?
And where was my mother's wailing when
Our flags were justified?
And where will we take our pleasures when
Our bodies have been denied?

For I am a wild and a lonely child
And the child of an angry man
Now with the high wars raging
I would offer you my hand
For we are the children of darkness
And the prey of a proud, proud land.

. . .


Down by the Greenwood Side Lyrics

There was a fair maiden lived in the north
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
She fell in love with her father's clerk
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

He courted her a year and a day
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
Till her, the young man did betray
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

She leaned her back against the thorn
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And there, two bonny boys, she's born
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

She's taken out her little knife
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And she's robbed them of their life
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

There, she walked by her father's wall
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
She saw her two bonny boys playing ball
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Oh, bonny boys, if you were mine,
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
I'd dress you up in silk so fine
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Oh, mother dear, when we were dying,
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
You did not treat us then so fine
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Now, bonny boys, come tell to me
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
What sort of life I'll have after dying?
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Seven years of visions of blood
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And seven years of hurt in the womb
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Seven years down in the mourning bell
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And seven years in the flames of hell
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Welcome, welcome, visions of blood
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And welcome, welcome, hurt in the womb
Down by the Greenwood side, oh

Welcome down to the mourning bell
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
But, God, save me from the flames of hell
Down by the Greenwood side, oh
Down by the Greenwood side

. . .


If you were a carpenter, and I were a lady
Would you marry me anyway? would you have my baby?
If a tinker were your trade, would you still find me
Carrying the pots you made, following behind me?

See my love through loneliness
See my love for sorrow
I've given you my onlyness,
Come give me your tomorrow

If you worked your hands in wood, would you still love me?
Answer me, Yes I would, I'd put you above me"
And if you were a miller, had a mill-wheel grinding,
Would you see it written on my face? I'm here for the finding.

See my love through loneliness
See my love for sorrow
I've given you my onlyness,
Come give me your tomorrow

If you were a carpenter, and I were a lady
Would you marry me anyway? would you have my baby?
Would you marry me anyway? would you have my baby?

. . .


It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and SHE was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my ANNABEL LEE-
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that,long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud,chilling
My ANNABEL LEE;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
AND the angels,not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!-that was the reason(as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling my ANNABEL LEE;
That the wind came out of the cloud by night
Killing my ANNABELLEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above
Nor the the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE: And the moon never beams,without bringing me
dreams
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise,but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE:
And so,all the night-tide,I lie down by the side
Of my darling my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea-
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

. . .


(Music by Joan Baez, Lyrics by Nina Duscheck)

Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
I'm going out to stem the tide
A tide that never saw the seas
It flows through jungles, round the trees
Some say it's yellow, some say red
It will not matter when we're dead

How many dead men will it take
To build a dike that will not break?
How many children must we kill
Before we make the waves stand still?

Though miracles come high today
We have the wherewithal to pay
It takes them off the streets you know
To places they would never go alone
It gives them useful trades
The lucky boys are even paid

Men die to build their Pharoah's tombs
And still and still the teeming wombs
How many men to conquer Mars
How many dead to reach the stars?

Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
I'm going out to stem the tide
A tide that never saw the seas
It flows through jungles, round the trees
Some say it's yellow, some say red
It will not matter when we're dead

© 1967 Robbins Music Corporation and Chandos Music (ASCAP)
Rights throughout the world controlled by Robbins Music Corporation

. . .


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