Teksty:
Baez Joan Baptism A Journey Through Our Time

as in noiseless dreams, hundreds of battle-flags, Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierced with missiles, I saw them, And carried, hither and yon through

: (N. Rosten) In Guernica the dead children were layed out in order on the sidewalk In their white starched dresses In their pitiful white dresses On

: (A. Waley) Minister of War, we are the king's claws and fangs. Why should you roll us on from misery to misery, Giving us no place to stop in or take

mouth that labors before dawn I want to sleep a while A while, a minute, a century But all must know that I have not died That there is a stable of gold

shoes, or a prince in a purple shawl. I bring with me when I return to the house that my father's hands made, A crooning bird on a chrystal bough and, o, a

called him out of heaven, Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad, Neither do anything to him, thy son. Behold! Caught in a thicket by its horns, A Ram

a-bye, don't you cry Go to sleepy, little baby When you wake you shall have All the pretty little horses Way down yonder in the meadow Lies a poor little

yeah That's the time That's the time I love the best Freedom is a word I rarely use Without thinking, oh yeah, Without thinking, hm-m Of the time Of the time

as in noiseless dreams, hundreds of battle-flags, Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierced with missiles, I saw them, And carried, hither and yon through