Luyện nghe bài hát Where Are You Now My Son

(Words and by Joan Baez)

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

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

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

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

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

Now that the being won
Where are you now, my

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

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

The of our youth were fun
Where are you now, my

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

In a damaged prison camp where they no longer had
They shook their heads, irony, we thought peace was at hand
The preacher read a 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 lobby Chrismas Eve
The French, the Poles, the Indians, and Vietnamese
The tiny tree our had fixed sweetened familiar psalms
But the sacred of Christmas prayers was shattered 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 their voices with joy
Outshining every bomb that fell that upon Hanoi

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

Oh people of the shelters what a you've given me
To smile at me and quietly let me share agony
And I can only bow in utter and ask
Forgiveness and forgiveness for the we've brought to pass

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

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

Chandos Music (ASCAP)