Tom Russell - East of Woodstock, West of Viet Nam lyrics

rate me

I slept through the Nineteen Sixties, I heard Dory Previn say <br />But me I caught me the great white bird, to the shores of Africay <br />Where I lost my adolescent heart, to the sound of a talking drum <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam <br /> <br />And on the roads outside Oshogbo, Lord I fell down on my knees <br />There were female spirits in old mud huts, iron bells ringing up in the trees <br />And an eighty-year-old white priest, she made juju all night long <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam <br /> <br />Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy, yeah we’re coming through the rye <br />In the cinema I saw the man on the moon, I laughed so hard I cried <br />It was somewhere in those rainy seasons, that I learned to carve my song <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam <br /> <br />Oh Africa, Mother Africa, you lay heavy on my breast <br />You old cradle of civilization, heart of darkness blood and death <br />Though we had to play you running scared, when the crocodile ate the sun <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam <br /> <br />Well I think it’s going to rain tonight, I can smell it coming off the sea <br />As I sit here reading old Graham Greene I taste Africa on every page <br />Then I close my eyes and see those red clay roads, and it’s sundown and boys I’m gone <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam <br /> <br />Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy, yeah we’re coming through the rye <br />It was a moveable feast of war and memory, a dark old lullaby <br />It was the smoke of a thousand camp fires, it was the wrong end of a gun, <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam. <br /> <br />Yeah, East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam<br /><br />