(originally by Pete Seeger)
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Young girls picked them, every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Gone to young men, every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers, every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
A long, long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Gone to graveyards, every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Gone to flowers, every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
When the lights go down in the California town
People are in for the evening
I jump into my car and I throw in my guitar
My heartbeat in time with my breathing
Driving over Kanan, singing to my soul
There's people out there turning music into gold
Ah, my buddy Jim Bass, he's a-working pumping gas
And he makes two-fifty for an hour
He's got rhythm in his hands as he's tapping on the cans
Sings rock and roll in the shower
Driving over Kanan, singing to his soul
There's people out there turning music into gold
Ah, California girls are the greatest in the world
Each one a song in the making
Singing right to me, I can hear the melody
Story is there for the taking
Driving over Kanan, singing to my soul
There's people out there turning music into gold
(Ooh)
Driving over Kanan, singing to my soul
There's people out there turning music into gold
When the lights go down in the California town
People are in for the evening
I jump into my car and I throw in my guitar
My heartbeat in time with my breathing
Driving over Kanan, singing to my soul
There's people out there turning music into gold
Flying over Kanan, singing to my soul
People out there turning music into gold
People out there turning music into gold
People out there turning music into gold
(Ooh, yeah)
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
(Yes, babe)
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
Rocking on the radio
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
Slipping down the back road
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
People out there turning music into gold (into gold)
gitchysum ...
All morons hate it when you call them a moron.
— J. D. Salinger
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