WOODY GUTHRIE Chorus: This land is your land, this land is my land From California, to the New York Island From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream
land was made for you and me This land is your land This land is my land From California To the New York island From the Redwood Forest To the Gulf Stream
belly and the warmest heart In your open hands I lay my head In the never ending, I fall apart In the silent forest and the brilliant red And through the stream
Guthrie Chorus: This land is your land. This land is my land from California to the New York island, From the red wood forest to the Gulf stream waters
It's the swinging of an axe from morning 'til night In the forest wild and drear Transported as we are from a lady so fair To the banks of some lonely stream
and play. Why do we need the rain anyway? Water to do the dishes, Water to brush your teeth, Water to take a shower, Water to wash the street. Water for the forest
no longer heal the fear Within their eyes, (their eyes) As grendel leaves his mossy home beneath the stagnant mere Along the forest path he roams to
And chatter together in a calm That's green and so ser - ene, A mem - 'ry of our walk of love. In a dream, a stream goes by Re - flec
Where forest stream went through the wood And silent all the stens there stood Of tall trees, moveless, hanging dark With mottled shadows on their bark
pockets we'll light this darkened forest on the mossy turf, we'll dance till our feet shatter, toes will splinter tripping through the misty streams
our pockets We light the darkened forest On the mossy turf we'll dance till Our feet shatter, our toes will splinter Tripping through the misty streams
upstream, reddened with decay To die there in their birthplace, so will I change As the stream becomes inert and the wildflowers fade As the forest turns
tape parade over the rain forest, As ironic as a ticker tape parade over my head, As ironic as a ticker tape parade over my head Going down stream...
is calling me, and that call is enemy's sword in the heart Murmur of the oaks and moans of the forests, screams of the rivers, and weeping of the streams
herds are driving back. Sunset is driving near, The heat of hoofs - all around melt away in the shaggy beard of great and wise elder sunset. The forests
There's a beauty in the river There's a beauty in the stream There's a beauty in the forest at night When the lonely night bird screams And there's so
Oh, barefoot boy Once he came unto a land Of forests and of streams That tumbled through The meadows to the sea He called it home For many were its wonders
It was when I rode off in my daydreams Chasing that vision of light It was then I got caught in the jet stream And I dropped through a hole in the night