If I could figure out the snit that I’m in now,
and understand the state, and how I got there
then perhaps I’ll get a sense of where I’m heading,
or at least from where I started this long journey.
My mind is shackled like a prisoner on the lam
and crashing out for freedom’s choice or bust.
I must admit I’m crazy from the fever,
and searching for the answers never found.
There was Martin, and John and Gandhi too
teaching love ins, peace and happiness.
We wrote and sang and made love in bushes
While celebrating Woodstock Nation.
But, we had Tricky **** and Kissinger
insisting on a war that no one wanted.
The killing fields stretched cross the ocean
to my backyard and yours, remember?
So choose my brethren, choose between
a war of blood, dismay and torture
or of peace and love and happiness,
and a place called Woodstock Nation.