Joan Baez Blessed Are
BLESSED ARE THE ONE-WAY TICKET HOLDERS ON THE ONE-WAY STREET BLESSED ARE THE MIDNIGHT RIDERS WHO IN THE SHADOW OF GOD THEY SLEEP BLESSED ARE THE HOT OLD HIKERS STARING OUT AT FALLING RAIN WON`DRING AT THE RETRIBUTION IN THEIR PERSONAL ACQUAINTANCE WITH PAIN BLESSED ARE THE BLOOD RELATIONS OF THE YOUNG ONES WHO HAVE DIED WHO HAD NOT THE TIME OR PATIENCE TO CARRY ON THIS EARTHLY LIFE RAIN WILL COME AND WINDS WILL BLOW, WILD DEER IN THE MOUNTAIN SNOW. BIRDS WILL BEAT AT HEAVEN`S WALL, WHAT COMES TO ONE MUST COME TO US ALL. WELL, YOU AND I ARE ON THE ONE-WAY TICKET HOLDERS ON THAT ONE-WAY STREET WHICH LLIES ACROSS A GOLDEN VALLEY WHERE THE WATER OF JOY AND HOPE RUN DEEP SO IF YOU PASS THE PARENTS WEEPING OF THE YOUNG ONES WHO HAVE DIED TAKE THEM TO YOUR WARMTH AND KEEPING FOR BLESSED ARE THE TEARS THEY CRIED AND MANY WERE THE TEARS THEY CRIED TAKE THEM TO THE VALLEY WIDE AND LET THEIR SOULS BE PACIFIED
