Song information  On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ballad of Oxford , by - Phil Ochs. Song from the album A Toast To Those Who Are Gone, in the genre Фолк-рокRelease date: 23.04.2007
Record label: Phil Ochs
Song language: English
 Song information  On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ballad of Oxford , by - Phil Ochs. Song from the album A Toast To Those Who Are Gone, in the genre Фолк-рокBallad of Oxford | 
| I’ll sing you a song about a southern town where the devil had his rule | 
| When marshalls faced an angry mob to send one man to school | 
| His name was jimmy meredith | 
| The tide he helped to turn | 
| For he chose to stay on that terrible day | 
| The land was soon to learn | 
| There was blood, red blood, on their hands | 
| Yellow dirt on their clothes | 
| What they thought they were doing | 
| Only God and the devil knows | 
| There was hate, cold hate, in their hearts | 
| Shot from their souls like a gun | 
| And as they threw their stones and bricks | 
| They screamed, «see what you have done!» | 
| The governor made a promise he would keep the trouble down | 
| But when the mob got ugly no troopers could be found | 
| And men were filled with hate and fear | 
| They screamed into the night | 
| The rebel flag waved in the air | 
| The symbol of state’s rights | 
| There was blood, red blood, on their hands | 
| Yellow dirt on their clothes | 
| What they thought they were doing | 
| Only God and the devil knows | 
| There was hate, cold hate, in their hearts | 
| Shot from their souls like a gun | 
| And as they threw their stones and bricks | 
| They screamed, «see what you have done!» | 
| Gas was fired into the mob after each attack | 
| And though the gas was running low, they never fired back | 
| And when the smoke had cleared and the fury felt it’s pain | 
| Two men were dead and a hundred bled | 
| The south had risen again | 
| So listen mr barnet, and mr walker, too | 
| The times are changing mighty fast, they’ll roll right over you | 
| But someday you’ll head for the south, to the southern tip of hell | 
| And it’s hot down there, white-hot down there | 
| Let’s hear your rebel yell! | 
| There was blood, red blood, on their hands | 
| Yellow dirt on their clothes | 
| What they thought they were doing | 
| Only God and the devil knows | 
| There was hate, cold hate, in their hearts | 
| Shot from their souls like a gun | 
| And as they threw their stones and bricks | 
| They screamed, «see what you have done!» | 
| «see what you have done!» | 
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