: I am a man of constant sorrow I've seen trouble all my days I'll say goodbye to Colorado Where I was born and partly raised. Your mother says I'm
: How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, 'n
deepths of the deepest black forest Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters Where the home
: Oh the time will come up When the winds will stop And the breeze will cease to be breathin' Like the stillness in the wind 'Fore the hurricane begins
too, is folding under you And it's all over now, Baby Blue. All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home Your empty handed armies, are all going home
: Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in
: I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more No, I aint gonna work on Maggie's farm no more Well, I wake up in the morning Fold my hands and pray for
: She's got everything she needs She's an artist, she don't look back She's got everything she needs She's an artist, she don't look back She can take
muddy 'n' wild, You can't care the bloody for my unborn child. Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well. Number nine train ain' done no harm, Number nine train take my poor baby home
unwrapped their bed roll Tuba players now rehearsal around the flagpole And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps or the soul To the old folks home
: Come you masters of war You that build all the guns You that build the death planes You that build all the bombs You that hide behind walls You that
: Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son" Abe says, "Man, you must be puttin' me on" God say, "No." Abe say, "What ?" God say, "You can do what you want
: (Woody Guthrie) [Chorus:] This land is your land, this land is my land From California, to the New York Island From the redwood forest, to the gulf
: They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes
: Well, I ride on a mailtrain, babe Can't buy a thrill Well, I've been up all night Leanin' on the window sill Well, if I die On top of the hill And
: When you're lost in the rain in Juarez And it's Eastertime too And your gravity fails And negativity don't pull you through Don't put on any airs When
the vacuum of his eyes And ask him do you want to make a deal? How does it feel How does it feel To be on your own With no direction home Like a complete
: Oh, the ragman draws circles Up and down the block I'd ask him what the matter was But I know that he don't talk And the ladies treat me kindly And