(Words and Music by Joan Baez) 



I'll put flowers at your feet and I will sing to you so sweet 

And hope my words will carry home to your heart 

You left us marching on the road and said how heavy was the load 

The years were young, the struggle barely had its start 

Do you hear the voices in the night, Bobby? 

They're crying for you 

See the children in the morning light, Bobby 

They're dying 



No one could say it like you said it, we'd only try and just forget it 

You stood alone upon the mountain till it was sinking 

And in a frenzy we tried to reach you 

With looks and letters we would beseech you 

Never knowing what, where or how you were thinking 

Do you hear the voices in the night, Bobby? 

They're crying for you 

See the children in the morning light, Bobby 

They're dying 



Perhaps the pictures in the Times could no longer be put in rhymes 

When all the eyes of starving children are wide open 

You cast aside the cursed crown and put your magic into a sound 

That made me think your heart was aching or even broken 

But if God hears my complaint He will forgive you 

And so will I, with all respect, I'll just relive you 

And likewise, you must understand these things we give you 



Like these flowers at your door and scribbled notes about the war 

We're only saying the time is short and there is work to do 

And we're still marching in the streets with little victories and big defeats 

But there is joy and there is hope and there's a place for you 

And you have heard the voices in the night, Bobby 

They're crying for you 

See the children in the morning light, Bobby 

They're dying 



© 1972 Chandos Music (ASCAP)