| Goin' to the Gate of Horn
|
| In my memory
|
| Red light flickerin' on the tablecloth
|
| Big, dark beer in front of me
|
| How I wish that I was there
|
| Standin' at the bar
|
| Listenin' to Mr. Gibson play
|
| On his fine guitar
|
| It’s a big old twelve-string
|
| And it went like this
|
| Gate of Horn, Gate of Horn
|
| Glad I was Chicago born
|
| Gate of Horn
|
| Meant everythin' to me
|
| I was barely seventeen
|
| Little salty and a little green
|
| Gate of Horn meant everythin' to me
|
| Once in a while they’d play a jig
|
| There was Judy and Peter and Josh and
|
| Odetta
|
| The Clancies and Mary and Paul made it better
|
| Grossman and Tommy and Dickie and Lou
|
| And when one was looking
|
| McGuinn was there too
|
| Then they came and tore it down
|
| Songbirds scattered and we all left town
|
| Gate of Horn
|
| Meant everythin' to me |