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Long Time Gone

by Jack Warshaw

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John Henry 05:35
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Bo Lamkins 04:18
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The year is 1927 and the day is the third day of May The town is a city called Boston, Our address the dark Dedham Jail To His Honor the Governor Fuller To the Council of Massachusetts State We Bartolomo Vanzetti and Nicolo Sacco to say Confined to our cells here at Dedham, and under the sentence of death We pray you to exercise your powers, and look a the facts of our case We do not ask you for a pardon, for a pardon would admit of our guilt Since we are both innocent workers we have no guilt to admit We believe sir that each human being, is in close touch with all of mankind We believe, Sir that each human being knows the right from the wrong in his mind We talk to you here as a man Sir, even knowin’ our opinions divide We did not kill the guards at South Braintree, or dream such a terrible crime If we was those killers dear Governor, we’d not be so dumb or so blind To pass out our handbills and make workers speeches out here by the scene of the crime Those fifteen thousands of dollars, the lawyers and cops say we took Do we Sir dress up like two gentlemen with that much in our pocket book (break) Our names are on the long list of radicals of the Federal Government Sir They said that we needed watchin’ as we peddled our literature Judge Thayer’s mind was made up Sir, when we walked into the court He called us anarchistic bastards and said lots of other things worse Now the officers said we feared something that they called the consciousness of guilt We was afraid of wrecking more homes and seeing more workers blood spilt And the very first questions they asked us was not about killin’ the clerks But things about our Labor Movement and how our trade union works Oh how could the jury see clearly when the lawyers and judges and cops Called us low type Italians, said we looked just like regular waps Draft dodgers anarchists, gun packers, them vulgar sounding names Blew dust in the eyes of the jurors, the crowd in the courtroom the same (break) Well this fight Sir is not a new battle, we did not makeit last night Was fought by Prudon and Shelley, Piscane, Tolstoy and Christ It’s bigger than the atoms, the sands of the desert, the planets that roll in the sky Till workers get rid of their robbers, well it’s worse Sir to live than to die Now if you shake your head NO, dear Governor, of course our doom it is sealed We’ll hold up our heads like two sons of men, seven years in these cells of steel We’ll walk down this corridor to death Sir, like workers have walked it before But we’ll work in our working class struggle if we live a thousand lives more.
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about

I grew up in New York City, discovered folksongs in my teens through The Weavers and Pete Seeger concerts and inhabited Greenwich Village in the early 60s. As a student in southern Ohio I was drawn to authentic Old Time sources, started a folk song club, ran eekly “hoots,” formed a trio and played my first gigs. Summers saw me back at Village magnets like Folk City and The Bitter End, meeting and playing with rising singers and writers at gigs and festivals.

Mioving to England, I resisted the Vietnam War, joined Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger’s Critics Group, sang, wrote, acted, and toured. In 1973 I formed Combine Theatre with other Group members, writing and performing topical songs and plays. Burning the candle at both ends, it was urban planning and historic conservation by day, clubs and concerts by night- until family duties brought new priorities.

Nearly everything on this 1979 album is real performance, not layered tracks and engineering. After my first child was born I gradually stopped touring but didn’t forget the songs. Some of my songs got taken
up and recorded by others, notably “If They Come in the Morning,” aka “No Time for Love” by Christy Moore. Now my family’s grown and I’m back, performing, writing and working on the next album. Was that the Golden Age of folk? I like to think there’s more depth to it now, less commercial nonsense. Me? I’m still looking to present unflinching, passionate, uplifting, thrilling, sometimes angry songs about real
people fighting injustice, real stories, songs with staying power. Technology may capture every sound ever made, but nothing beats real sessions with friends and soul mates. I’ve been lucky enough to meet and learn from some of the great legends in folkdom, some now gone. I owe them.

credits

released March 29, 2015

Jack Warshaw - vocals, guitars, banjo, autoharp, production
Sandra Kerr - vocals, guitar, concertina, production
Robin Arzonie - fiddle, chorals
Bob Brady - bass guitar
Manuela Jara - guitar, drum, chorals now
Dave Marshall - mouth harp now
2011 Remaster: Bart Warshaw

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Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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about

Jack Warshaw UK

Veteran of the 1960s folk revival, he passionately believes, writes and sings with authenticity and respect for traditional American styles and song carriers. He has met, learned from or worked with such legends as Pete, Mike and Peggy Seeger, Tom Paley, Ewan MacColl, Bob Dylan, Mississippi John Hurt, Clarence Ashley, Dave Van Ronk, Stuart Burns and many others. Watch Youtube. Bio on Wikipedia ... more

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