Song | John Brown |
Artist | Bob Dylan |
Album | The Bootleg Series Vol. 9 - The Witmark Demos: 1962-1964 |
John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore | |
His mama sure was proud of him! | |
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all | |
His mama’s face broke out all in a grin | |
“Oh son, you look so fine, I’m glad you’re a son of mine | |
You make me proud to know you hold a gun | |
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get | |
And we’ll put them on the wall when you come home” | |
As that old train pulled out, John’s ma began to shout | |
Tellin’ ev’ryone in the neighborhood: | |
“That’s my son that’s about to go, he’s a soldier now, you know” | |
She made well sure her neighbors understood | |
She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile | |
As she showed them to the people from next door | |
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun | |
And these things you called a good old-fashioned war | |
Oh! Good old-fashioned war! | |
Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come | |
They ceased to come for about ten months or more | |
Then a letter finally came saying, “Go down and meet the train | |
Your son’s a-coming home from the war” | |
She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around | |
But she could not see her soldier son in sight | |
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last | |
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes | |
Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off | |
And he wore a metal brace around his waist | |
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know | |
While she couldn’t even recognize his face! | |
Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face | |
“Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done | |
How is it you come to be this way?” | |
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move | |
And the mother had to turn her face away | |
“Don’t you remember, Ma, when I went off to war | |
You thought it was the best thing I could do? | |
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud | |
You wasn’t there standing in my shoes” | |
“Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here? | |
I’m a-tryin’ to kill somebody or die tryin’ | |
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close | |
And I saw that his face looked just like mine” | |
Oh! Lord! Just like mine! | |
“And I couldn’t help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink | |
That I was just a puppet in a play | |
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke | |
And a cannonball blew my eyes away” | |
As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock | |
At seein’ the metal brace that helped him stand | |
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close | |
And he dropped his medals down into her hand |
John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore | |
His mama sure was proud of him! | |
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all | |
His mama' s face broke out all in a grin | |
" Oh son, you look so fine, I' m glad you' re a son of mine | |
You make me proud to know you hold a gun | |
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get | |
And we' ll put them on the wall when you come home" | |
As that old train pulled out, John' s ma began to shout | |
Tellin' ev' ryone in the neighborhood: | |
" That' s my son that' s about to go, he' s a soldier now, you know" | |
She made well sure her neighbors understood | |
She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile | |
As she showed them to the people from next door | |
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun | |
And these things you called a good oldfashioned war | |
Oh! Good oldfashioned war! | |
Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come | |
They ceased to come for about ten months or more | |
Then a letter finally came saying, " Go down and meet the train | |
Your son' s acoming home from the war" | |
She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around | |
But she could not see her soldier son in sight | |
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last | |
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes | |
Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off | |
And he wore a metal brace around his waist | |
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know | |
While she couldn' t even recognize his face! | |
Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face | |
" Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done | |
How is it you come to be this way?" | |
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move | |
And the mother had to turn her face away | |
" Don' t you remember, Ma, when I went off to war | |
You thought it was the best thing I could do? | |
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud | |
You wasn' t there standing in my shoes" | |
" Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here? | |
I' m atryin' to kill somebody or die tryin' | |
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close | |
And I saw that his face looked just like mine" | |
Oh! Lord! Just like mine! | |
" And I couldn' t help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink | |
That I was just a puppet in a play | |
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke | |
And a cannonball blew my eyes away" | |
As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock | |
At seein' the metal brace that helped him stand | |
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close | |
And he dropped his medals down into her hand |