Lyrics

[Verse 1] I slept through the Nineteen Sixties I heard Dory Previn say But me I caught me the great white bird To the shores of Afri-kay Where I lost my adolescent heart To the sound of a talking drum Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam [Verse 2] And on the roads outside Oshogbo Lord I fell down on my knees There were female spirits in old mud huts Iron bells ringing up in the trees And an eighty-year-old white priestess She made Juju all night long Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam [Verse 3] Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy Yeah, we coming through the rye In the cinema I saw the man on the moon I laughed so hard I cried It was somewhere in those rainy seasons That I learned to carve my song Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam [Verse 4] Oh Africa, Mother Africa You lay heavy on my breast You old cradle of civilization Heart of darkness blood and death Though we had to flee you running scared When the crocodile ate the sun Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam [Verse 5] Well, I think it's going to rain tonight I can smell it coming off the sage As I sit here reading old Graham Greene I taste Africa on every page Then I close my eyes and see those red clay roads It's sundown and boys I'm gone Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam [Verse 6] Raise high the roof beams carpenter boy Yeah, we coming through the rye It was a movable feast of war and memory A dark old lullaby It was the smoke of a thousand cook fires It was the wrong end of a gun Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam Yeah, east of Woodstock, west of Viet Nam