Growing up in my silent suburban town, I watched my Daddyís TV for what was going down. Peter Max and Sgt. Pepper put a light in my eye; Mi Lai and Ohio made a young boy cry.
We watched and we learned as the tables were turned: The times they were a-changiní, someone had to get burned. Some of us believed in freedom, some believed in a friend, Most just wondered where the chips would fall in the end.
By the time that we got to Woodstock, There were half a million gone! Did you all get blown away? Or was the price of freedom just too high to pay? I know you stood in battle, but itís hard to remember what for, When hearts are just as hard as they ever were.
Where are you, Stardust? Where are you, Golden? Have your dreams turned old and grey? Or has the price of faith become too high today? I know you left us something, but itís hard to tell what anymore, When hearts are just as hard as they ever were.
The drugs remain: thatís one thing money didnít have to kill ó Make them hard, make hard cold cash while they make the people ill. Didnít someone say there was a time they opened our eyes Instead of making money for a mob of motherfuckers telling us lies?
Freedom is inside and outside, too; People and predicaments can take it away from you. Youíve got to keep all the players in sight: Itís really not a question of whatís wrong or right. But you can lose it for yourself in the blink of an eye ó íCause it all comes to nothing the day you forget to ask, ďWhy?Ē