| --------------------------------------------------------- The Box Words by Lascelles from the Album "Poems, Prayers and Promises" by John Denver (1971) Once upon a time in the land of Hush-a-bye, about the wondrous days of Yore, I came across a sort of box, bound up with chains and locked with locks and labelled, "Kindly do not touch, it's War". The creed was issued round about, all with a flourish and a shout and a gayly coloured mascot tripping lightly on before. "Don't fiddle with this deadly box or break the chains or pick the locks and please don't ever play about with war". The children understood, the children happened to be good. They were just as good around the time of Yore. They didn't try to pick the locks or break into that deadly box. They never tried to play about with war. Mummies didn't either, sisters, aunts, grannies neither cause they were quiet, sweet and good in those wondrous days of Yore. Very much the same as now, not the ones to blame somehow for opening up that deadly box of Yore. But someone did! Someone battered in the lid and spilled the insides out across the floor. A sort of bouncy, bumpy ball made up of guns and flags and all the tears and horror and the death that goes with war. It bounced right out and went bashing all about and bumping into everything it saw and what was sad and most unfair is that it didn't really seem to care much who it bumped or why or what or for. It bumped the children mainly and I'll tell you this quite plainly it bumped some everyday and more and more and leaves them dead and burned and dying, thousands of them sick and crying cause when it bumps it's really very sore. Now there's a way to stop the ball it isn't difficult at all. All it takes is wisdom and I'm absolutely sure that we could get it back into the box and bind the chains and lock the locks but no-one seems to want to save the children anymore. Well that's the way it all appears, cause it's been bouncing round for years and years in spite of all the wisdom wiz since those wondrous days of Yore and the time they came across the box bound up with chains and locked with locks and labeled "Kindly do not touch....... it's War". |
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| Photos by Tom Wasson - 1967 |
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| Vietnamese School girls.....1967 |
| Downtown Saigon....1967....the wire is there to deflect grenades. |
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| Street Vendors....Saigon....1967 |
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| Mekong Waterfront - 1967 |
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The Times They Are A-Changin' Bob Dylan Released 1964 Come gather 'round people, Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone. If your time to you Is worth savin' Then you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'. Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'. For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'. Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There's a battle outside And it is ragin'. It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'. Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is Rapidly agin'. Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'. The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is Rapidly fadin'. And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin'. |
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