Revolution Blues Precedents from R’n’B, blues,gospel, country and jazz 1960s political and cultural radicalism Youth, money, technology Rock and Roll downturn at end of 1950s. Folk Revival and British invasion early 1960s

How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly Before they're forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind. How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind. How many years can a mountain exist Before it's washed to the sea? Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist Before they're allowed to be free? Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head, Pretending he just doesn't see? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind. Bob Dylan, ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ (1963)

Bob Dylan, ‘Oxford Town’ (1963) Oxford Town, Oxford Town Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down The sun don't shine above the ground Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town He went down to Oxford Town Guns and clubs followed him down All because his face was brown Better get away from Oxford Town Oxford Town around the bend He come in to the door, he couldn't get in All because of the color of his skin What do you think about that, my frien'? Me and my gal, my gal's son We got met with a tear gas bomb I don't even know why we come Goin' back where we come from Oxford Town in the afternoon Ev'rybody singin' a sorrowful tune Two men died 'neath the Mississippi moon Somebody better investigate soon Oxford Town, Oxford Town Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down The sun don't shine above the ground Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town

Bob Dylan, ‘The Times they are a-changin’ (1964) Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone. If your time to you Is worth savin' Then you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'. Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'. For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'. Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There's a battle outside And it is ragin'. It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'. Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is Rapidly agin'. Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'. The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is Rapidly fadin'. And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin'.

Bob Dylan, ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ (1965) Once upon a time you dressed so fine You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you? People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall" You thought they were all kiddin' you You used to laugh about Everybody that was hangin' out Now you don't talk so loud Now you don't seem so proud About having to be scrounging for your next meal. How does it feel How does it feel To be without a home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely But you know you only used to get juiced in it And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it You said you'd never compromise With the mystery tramp, but now you realize He's not selling any alibis As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes And ask him do you want to make a deal? How does it feel How does it feel To be on your own With no direction home Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone?

Bob Dylan, ‘Rainy Day Women nos.12 and 35’ (1966) Well, they'll stone ya when you're trying to be so good, They'll stone ya just a-like they said they would. They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to go home. Then they'll stone ya when you're there all alone. But I would not feel so all alone, Everybody must get stoned. Well, they'll stone ya when you're walkin' 'long the street. They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to keep your seat. They'll stone ya when you're walkin' on the floor. They'll stone ya when you're walkin' to the door. But I would not feel so all alone, Everybody must get stoned. They'll stone ya when you're at the breakfast table. They'll stone ya when you are young and able. They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to make a buck. They'll stone ya and then they'll say, "good luck." Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone, Everybody must get stoned. Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end. Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again. They'll stone you when you're riding in your car. They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar. Yes, but I would not feel so all alone, Everybody must get stoned. Well, they'll stone you when you walk all alone. They'll stone you when you are walking home. They'll stone you and then say you are brave. They'll stone you when you are set down in your grave. But I would not feel so all alone, Everybody must get stoned.

Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans At the end of the early British war The young land started growing,The young blood started flowing But I ain't marchin' anymore For I've killed my share of Indians In a thousand different fights I was there at the Little Big Horn I heard many men lying, I saw many more dying But I ain't marchin' anymore It's always the old to lead us to the war It's always the young to fall Now look at all we've won with the sabre and the gun Tell me is it worth it all? For I stole California from the Mexican land Fought in the bloody Civil War Yes I even killed my brother, And so many others And I ain't marchin' anymore Phil Ochs, ‘I Ain't Marching Anymore’ (1965)

The Beatles, ‘I want to hold your hand’ (1964) Oh yeah, I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand. When I'll say that something I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand. Oh please, say to me You'll let me be your man And please, say to me You'll let me hold your hand. You'll let me hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand. And when I touch you I feel happy inside. It's such a feeling that my love I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide. Yeh, you've got that something, I think you'll understand. When I'll say that something I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand.

The Beatles, ‘Ticket to Ride’ (1965) I think I'm gonna be sad, I think it's today, yeah. The girl that's driving me mad Is going away. She's got a ticket to ride….. She said that living with me Is bringing her down yeah. For she would never be free When I was around. She's got a ticket to ride… I don't know why she's ridin' so high, She ought to think twice, She ought to do right by me. Before she gets to saying goodbye, She ought to think twice, She ought to do right by me. I think I'm gonna be sad, I think it's today yeah. The girl that's driving me mad Is going away, yeah. She's got a ticket to ride… I don't know why she's ridin' so high, She ought to think twice, She ought to do right by me. Before she gets to saying goodbye, She ought to think twice, She ought to do right by me.

In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs Of every head he's had the pleasure to know. And all the people that come and go Stop and say hello. On the corner is a banker with a motorcar, The little children laugh at him behind his back. And the banker never wears a mack In the pouring rain, very strange. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. There beneath the blue suburban skies I sit, and meanwhile back In penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen. He likes to keep his fire engine clean, It's a clean machine. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes….. The Beatles, ‘Penny Lane’ (1967)

Strawberry Fields forever. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hungabout. Strawberry Fields forever. Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out, it doesn't matter much to me. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hungabout. Strawberry Fields forever. No one I think is in my tree, I mean it must be high or low. That is you can't you know tune in but it's all right, that is I think it's not too bad. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hungabout. Strawberry Fields forever. Always, no sometimes, think it's me, but you know I know when it's a dream. I think I know I mean a 'Yes' but it's all wrong, that is I think I disagree. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hungabout. Strawberry Fields forever. The Beatles, ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ (1967)

One pill makes you larger And one pill makes you small, And the ones that mother gives you Don't do anything at all. Go ask Alice When she's ten feet tall. And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you're going to fall, Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar Has given you the call. Call Alice When she was just small. When the men on the chessboard Get up and tell you where to go And you've just had some kind of mushroom And your mind is moving low. Go ask Alice I think she'll know. When logic and proportion Have fallen sloppy dead, And the White Knight is talking backwards And the Red Queen's "off with her head!" Remember what the dormouse said: "Feed your head. Feed your head. Feed your head" Jefferson Airplane, ‘White Rabbit’ (1967)