| Song | Christmas In Washington |
| Artist | Joan Baez |
| Album | Bowery Songs |
| 作词 : Earle | |
| It's Christmastime in Washington | |
| The Democrats rehearsed | |
| Gettin' into gear for four more years | |
| Things not gettin' worse | |
| The Republicans drink whiskey neat | |
| And thanked their lucky stars | |
| They said, 'He cannot seek another term | |
| They'll be no more FDRs' | |
| I sat home in Tennessee | |
| Staring at the screen | |
| With an uneasy feeling in my chest | |
| And I'm wonderin' what it means | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now | |
| I followed in your footsteps once | |
| Back in my travelin' days | |
| Somewhere I failed to find your trail | |
| Now I'm stumblin' through the haze | |
| But there's killers on the highway now | |
| And a man can't get around | |
| So I sold my soul for wheels that roll | |
| Now I'm stuck here in this town | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now | |
| There's foxes in the hen house | |
| Cows out in the corn | |
| The unions have been busted | |
| Their proud red banners torn | |
| To listen to the radio | |
| You'd think that all was well | |
| But you and me and Cisco know | |
| It's going straight to hell | |
| So come back, Emma Goldman | |
| Rise up, old Joe Hill | |
| The barracades are goin' up | |
| They cannot break our will | |
| Come back to us, Malcolm X | |
| And Martin Luther King | |
| We're marching into Selma | |
| As the bells of freedom ring | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now |
| zuò cí : Earle | |
| It' s Christmastime in Washington | |
| The Democrats rehearsed | |
| Gettin' into gear for four more years | |
| Things not gettin' worse | |
| The Republicans drink whiskey neat | |
| And thanked their lucky stars | |
| They said, ' He cannot seek another term | |
| They' ll be no more FDRs' | |
| I sat home in Tennessee | |
| Staring at the screen | |
| With an uneasy feeling in my chest | |
| And I' m wonderin' what it means | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now | |
| I followed in your footsteps once | |
| Back in my travelin' days | |
| Somewhere I failed to find your trail | |
| Now I' m stumblin' through the haze | |
| But there' s killers on the highway now | |
| And a man can' t get around | |
| So I sold my soul for wheels that roll | |
| Now I' m stuck here in this town | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now | |
| There' s foxes in the hen house | |
| Cows out in the corn | |
| The unions have been busted | |
| Their proud red banners torn | |
| To listen to the radio | |
| You' d think that all was well | |
| But you and me and Cisco know | |
| It' s going straight to hell | |
| So come back, Emma Goldman | |
| Rise up, old Joe Hill | |
| The barracades are goin' up | |
| They cannot break our will | |
| Come back to us, Malcolm X | |
| And Martin Luther King | |
| We' re marching into Selma | |
| As the bells of freedom ring | |
| So come back Woody Guthrie | |
| Come back to us now | |
| Tear your eyes from paradise | |
| And rise again somehow | |
| If you run into Jesus | |
| Maybe he can help you out | |
| Come back Woody Guthrie to us now |