Where Are You Now My Son?
Joan Baez Lyrics

It's walking to the battleground that always makes me cry
The mere thought of going to war brings Joan Baez to tears.

I've met so few folks in my time who weren't afraid to die
Joan Baez laments the universal fear of death she has encountered in her life.

But dawn bleeds with the people here and morning skies are red
The sky is tinted to represent the violence and bloodshed in the land below.

As young girls load up bicycles with flowers for the dead
In spite of tragedy, children gather flowers to honor the fallen.

An aging woman picks along the craters and the rubble
An older woman wanders through devastation to find any remnant of her son.

A piece of cloth, a bit of shoe, a whole lifetime of trouble
Even small items remind the woman of her son's life and how he lost it in this war.

A sobbing chant comes from her throat and splits the morning air
The woman is in so much anguish that she can't help but vocalize her grief.

The single son she had last night is buried under her
The woman has lost her one and only child.

They say that the war is done
Rumors circulate that the conflict has ended.

Where are you now, my son?
Joan Baez is searching for answers as to the whereabouts of this grieving mother's son.

An old man with unsteady gait and beard of ancient white
An elderly man, disheveled and frail, is introduced to Joan Baez.

Bent to the ground with arms outstretched faltering in his plight
The man is struggling to maintain any sort of stability as he bends over.

I took his hand to steady him, he stood and did not turn
Joan Baez helped this man regain balance and he didn't turn away from her for assistance.

But smiled and wept and bowed and mumbled softly, 'Danke shoen'
The man was grateful for Joan Baez's kindness even though he was crying and struggling.

The children on the roadsides of the villages and towns
Joan Baez is observing the children who remain untouched by war.

Would stand around us laughing as we stood like giant clowns
Even though Joan Baez and others are adults, the children giggle at their attempts to be lighthearted in the face of overwhelming turmoil.

The mourning bands told whom they'd lost by last night's phantom messenger
Messages brought by an unknown carrier reveal which families have lost loved ones recently.

And they spoke their only words in English, 'Johnson, Nixon, Kissinger'
The people blame these powerful men for the war and the associated deaths.

Now that the war's being won
The war is far from over, but the tide may be turning.

Where are you now, my son?
Joan Baez still seeks an answer to the mother's unanswered question.

The siren gives a running break to those who live in town
Sirens indicate that attacks are imminent and people take shelter in underground bunkers.

Take the children and the blankets to the concrete underground
Families flock together and huddle under the false protection of concrete walls.

Sometimes we'd sing and joke and paint bright pictures on the wall
Even amidst danger, people do their best to maintain hope and happiness through songs and artwork.

And wonder if we would die well and if we'd loved at all
The possibility of their own death makes them ponder their own legacy and the ultimate value of love.

The helmetless defiant ones sit on the curb and stare
Some soldiers defy authority and refuse to wear protective gear.

At tracers flashing through the sky and planes bursting in air
They watch as planes and bombs paint a destructive picture in the sky.

But way out in the villages no warning comes before a blast
Many people in rural areas have no way of anticipating bombs and other attacks.

That means a sleeping child will never make it to the door
The harshest consequence is that children may never have a chance to reach the safety of a bunker.

The days of our youth were fun
The innocent memories of their youth are in sharp contrast to the bleakness of their current lives.

Where are you now, my son?
Joan Baez has not forgotten about the mother and son and continues to search for the missing man.

From the distant cabins in the sky where no man hears the sound
Pilots in the sky, removed from the sounds of war, have an aerial view of the destruction they cause.

Of death on earth from his own bombs, six pilots were shot down
The pilots who thought they were safe from harm were also brought down by the conflict.

Next day six hulking bandaged men were dazzled by a room
Despite their injuries, the pilots are led to a room filled with journalists and adoring well-wishers.

Of newsmen. Sally keep the faith, let's hope this war ends soon
Joan Baez encourages Sally, among others, to maintain hope for the end of the war.

In a damaged prison camp where they no longer had command
Even at the prison camp, the damage from the war is palpable, and the commanders lack control.

They shook their heads, what irony, we thought peace was at hand
The irony of their situation leads to a sense of hopelessness.

The preacher read a Christmas prayer and the men kneeled on the ground
In a moment of shared humility, the men in the camp observe the religious holiday and take a moment to be grateful and humble.

Then sheepishly asked me to sing 'They Drove Old Dixie Down'
They look to Joan Baez for comfort and ask for a familiar song.

Yours was the righteous gun
Joan Baez draws attention to the fact that this war is not won through righteousness or moral superiority.

Where are you now, my son?
Again, Joan Baez searches for answers to the fate of the missing soldier.

We gathered in the lobby celebrating Chrismas Eve
A group comes together to celebrate Christmas, united in the need for companionship and warm feelings in uncertain times.

The French, the Poles, the Indians, Cubans and Vietnamese
The group is diverse in nationality and brings their various experiences of war to the table.

The tiny tree our host had fixed sweetened familiar psalms
A small tree helps maintain a sense of familiarity and warmth through traditional religious hymns.

But the most sacred of Christmas prayers was shattered by the bombs
The religious moments of the celebration are brutalized by the violence of the war.

So back into the shelter where two lovely women rose
To escape the violence, the group returns to the shelter where two women's spirits inspire hope in everyone else.

And with a brilliance and a fierceness and a gentleness which froze
These women showcase powerful and gentle spirits, freezing everyone with their strength and resilience.

The rest of us to silence as their voices soared with joy
In response to the beauty of the women's voices, everyone else is left silent and in awe.

Outshining every bomb that fell that night upon Hanoi
Their voices managed to overpower the physical and emotional damage sustained from bombs that fell that very same night.

With bravery we have sun
Even in the face of terror and tragedy, these women show strength and courage.

But where are you now, my son?
Despite everything else in her life, Joan Baez cannot ignore the burned mother's suffering and loss.

Oh people of the shelters what a gift you've given me
Joan Baez appreciates the shelter and the people within it, who have given her a new appreciation for life.

To smile at me and quietly let me share your agony
The people in the shelter welcome others and allow them to share in the struggles they face.

And I can only bow in utter humbleness and ask
Joan Baez is humbled by the compassion and generosity she's encountered.

Forgiveness and forgiveness for the things we've brought to pass
The people in the shelter forgive Joan Baez for her part in the war and the harm it has caused.

The black pyjama'd culture that we tried to kill with pellet holes
Referring to the color of the Viet Cong's clothing, Joan Baez acknowledges how they have been dehumanized and unfairly targeted.

And rows of tiny coffins we've paid for with our souls
Joan Baez recognizes the senseless loss of life caused by the war.

Have built a spirit seldom seen in women and in men
Their struggle has given birth to a spirit of resilience that is rare in people everywhere.

And the white flower of Bac Mai will surely blossom once again
Hope remains that something beautiful will come from this conflict.

I've heard that the war is done
Despite what people say, Joan Baez still sees evidence of violence and turmoil all around her.

Then where are you now, my son?
Her search for the woman's missing son continues to weigh heavily on her mind.