CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : William Butler Yeats Visits Lincoln Park & Escapes Unscathed (Live)
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Well, I've got a very simple and a very quiet song here which, uh, I wrote about Lincoln Park. Just, when I got back from Chicago I thought I would write thunderous protest songs. And I didn't, I just wrote this only little song. I wrote two songs. I'll sing you two songs about Chicago, the Chicago experience.
This is, this is the first one. It's a– Now there are many people who didn't, who didn't come to Chicago. There was a big– At one point everybody wanted to come to Chicago, and then it got very scary and nobody wanted to come to Chicago. And five thousand of the, of the three hundred thousand showed up. Here's a song commemorating those who didn't show up. It's uh, if I remember the chords.
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
You know I didn't see you there
I didn't see them crack your head
Or breathe the tear gas air
Oh, where were you in Chicago
When the fight was being fought?
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
'Cause I was in Detroit
That's about the movement psychology. And, uh, but it really doesn't matter if you were in Chicago or not. Because whether you were or not, Chicago's going to come to Vancouver. As it's come to Los Angeles. Chicago's going to come everywhere in the Western Hemisphere. And we'll all get to meet Mayor Daley in person one way or the other.
And more than anything else, Chicago was probably sadder than– It was exhilarating at the time and then very sad afterwards. Because something very extraordinary died there, which was America.
As I went out one evening
To take the evening air
I was blessed by a blood-red moon
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I spied a fair young maiden
And a flame was in her eye
And on her face lay the steel blue skies
Of Lincoln Park, the dark was turning, turning
They spread their sheets upon the ground
Just like a wandering tribe
And the wise men walked in their Robespierre robes
Through Lincoln Park the dark was turning
The towers trapped and trembling
And the boats were tossed about
When the fog rolled in and the gas rolled out
From Lincoln Park the dark was turning, turning
Like wild horses freed at last
We took the streets of wine
But I searched in vain for she stayed behind
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I'll go back to the city
Where I can be alone
And tell my friend she lies in stone
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
Well, I've got a very simple and a very quiet song here which, uh, I wrote about Lincoln Park. Just, when I got back from Chicago I thought I would write thunderous protest songs. And I didn't, I just wrote this only little song. I wrote two songs. I'll sing you two songs about Chicago, the Chicago experience.
This is, this is the first one. It's a– Now there are many people who didn't, who didn't come to Chicago. There was a big– At one point everybody wanted to come to Chicago, and then it got very scary and nobody wanted to come to Chicago. And five thousand of the, of the three hundred thousand showed up. Here's a song commemorating those who didn't show up. It's uh, if I remember the chords.
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
You know I didn't see you there
I didn't see them crack your head
Or breathe the tear gas air
Oh, where were you in Chicago
When the fight was being fought?
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
'Cause I was in Detroit
That's about the movement psychology. And, uh, but it really doesn't matter if you were in Chicago or not. Because whether you were or not, Chicago's going to come to Vancouver. As it's come to Los Angeles. Chicago's going to come everywhere in the Western Hemisphere. And we'll all get to meet Mayor Daley in person one way or the other.
And more than anything else, Chicago was probably sadder than– It was exhilarating at the time and then very sad afterwards. Because something very extraordinary died there, which was America.
As I went out one evening
To take the evening air
I was blessed by a blood-red moon
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I spied a fair young maiden
And a flame was in her eye
And on her face lay the steel blue skies
Of Lincoln Park, the dark was turning, turning
They spread their sheets upon the ground
Just like a wandering tribe
And the wise men walked in their Robespierre robes
Through Lincoln Park the dark was turning
The towers trapped and trembling
And the boats were tossed about
When the fog rolled in and the gas rolled out
From Lincoln Park the dark was turning, turning
Like wild horses freed at last
We took the streets of wine
But I searched in vain for she stayed behind
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I'll go back to the city
Where I can be alone
And tell my friend she lies in stone
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
