| Song | By The People |
| Artist | Van Dyke Parks |
| Album | Song Cycle |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Parks | |
| Strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| Brother has a long way to go maybe baby should know his cotton mouth is too slow for the song of the forgotten South, | |
| Just don't hang us up here. | |
| Step by step by please though proletarian am I. | |
| By chance am you | |
| "wine git out de way o'de darkies." | |
| You'd better hustle up a storm to sing this Caucasian lullaby. | |
| Sleep oh my darling now sleep. | |
| Draw freehand over Iron Curtain. | |
| Stalk up on the trim bamboo. | |
| To footridge the bullrushes certain to know law, | |
| American express. | |
| No Caucasian flair for flim-flam will do. | |
| Step by please step by. | |
| Weigh the small advance. | |
| There is still a chance. | |
| Let's assume that we form a company men. | |
| No mention should the pass in revue of the show. | |
| Just understand that I prefer to be dead than red white or blue as I write sturdy crew. | |
| As you view these few Russians whose true dawn came to view long ago. | |
| So I think that you'd better strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| The song of the forgotten South just don't hang us up here. | |
| Here the unknown is at hand and not far from my heel a tarbaby feel for the Czar. | |
| For those who are lonely well the Black sea is callin' Georgia's Stalin has fallen so you all come here. | |
| We now are near to the end. | |
| If you stay with the show say we all had to go to hasten to jar the few nations too far gone to step by. |
| zuo ci : Parks | |
| Strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| Brother has a long way to go maybe baby should know his cotton mouth is too slow for the song of the forgotten South, | |
| Just don' t hang us up here. | |
| Step by step by please though proletarian am I. | |
| By chance am you | |
| " wine git out de way o' de darkies." | |
| You' d better hustle up a storm to sing this Caucasian lullaby. | |
| Sleep oh my darling now sleep. | |
| Draw freehand over Iron Curtain. | |
| Stalk up on the trim bamboo. | |
| To footridge the bullrushes certain to know law, | |
| American express. | |
| No Caucasian flair for flimflam will do. | |
| Step by please step by. | |
| Weigh the small advance. | |
| There is still a chance. | |
| Let' s assume that we form a company men. | |
| No mention should the pass in revue of the show. | |
| Just understand that I prefer to be dead than red white or blue as I write sturdy crew. | |
| As you view these few Russians whose true dawn came to view long ago. | |
| So I think that you' d better strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| The song of the forgotten South just don' t hang us up here. | |
| Here the unknown is at hand and not far from my heel a tarbaby feel for the Czar. | |
| For those who are lonely well the Black sea is callin' Georgia' s Stalin has fallen so you all come here. | |
| We now are near to the end. | |
| If you stay with the show say we all had to go to hasten to jar the few nations too far gone to step by. |
| zuò cí : Parks | |
| Strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| Brother has a long way to go maybe baby should know his cotton mouth is too slow for the song of the forgotten South, | |
| Just don' t hang us up here. | |
| Step by step by please though proletarian am I. | |
| By chance am you | |
| " wine git out de way o' de darkies." | |
| You' d better hustle up a storm to sing this Caucasian lullaby. | |
| Sleep oh my darling now sleep. | |
| Draw freehand over Iron Curtain. | |
| Stalk up on the trim bamboo. | |
| To footridge the bullrushes certain to know law, | |
| American express. | |
| No Caucasian flair for flimflam will do. | |
| Step by please step by. | |
| Weigh the small advance. | |
| There is still a chance. | |
| Let' s assume that we form a company men. | |
| No mention should the pass in revue of the show. | |
| Just understand that I prefer to be dead than red white or blue as I write sturdy crew. | |
| As you view these few Russians whose true dawn came to view long ago. | |
| So I think that you' d better strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. | |
| The song of the forgotten South just don' t hang us up here. | |
| Here the unknown is at hand and not far from my heel a tarbaby feel for the Czar. | |
| For those who are lonely well the Black sea is callin' Georgia' s Stalin has fallen so you all come here. | |
| We now are near to the end. | |
| If you stay with the show say we all had to go to hasten to jar the few nations too far gone to step by. |