Mister Blue/White Bones of Allende
(Tom Paxton)

[Spoken] Good morning, Mister Blue, we've got our eyes on you.
The evidence is clear that you've been scheming.
You'd like to steal away and while away the day,
You'd like to send an hour - dreaming.
What will it take to whip you into line?
-A broken heart? A broken head?
It can be arranged.
It can be arranged.

Step softly, Mister Blue, we know what's best for you,
And we know where your precious dreams will take you.
You've got a slot to fill, and fill that slot you will.
You'll learn to love it - or we'll break you.
Now, what will it take to whip you into line?
-A broken heart? A broken head?
It can be arranged.
It can be arranged.

Be careful, Mister Blue, this phase you're going through
Can lead you nowhere else but to disaster.
Excuse us while we grin, you've worn our patience thin;
It's time we showed you who's your master.

But don't worry, Mister Blue, we'll take good care of you.
Just think of it as sense and not surrender.
But never think again that you can think again,
Or you'll get something you'll remember.
Now, what will it take to whip you into line?
-A broken heart? A broken head?
It can be arranged.
It can be arranged.

You are flying to Vienna, you are phoned aboard your airplane.
Sit at oaken tables, speak in solemn tones.
While the leaders of all nations keep a deep, respectful silence,
You're moving pawns and bishops made of flesh and blood and bone.

But the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are the scream that breaks the silence of the thousands blown away.
Oh, the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are not silent, they are screaming; they're your Peace Prize, Doctor K.

While you banter with reporters, while you charm your fellow diners,
While you dance with wives of princes, while you rest from cares of state,
There are thousands in the prisons, there are widows numb with sorrow,
There are graves unmarked and hidden, there are ghosts outside your gate.

And the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are the scream that breaks the silence of the thousands blown away.
Oh, the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are not silent, they are screaming; they're your Peace Prize, Doctor K.

For it's Kissinger in China, oh it's Kissinger in Cairo,
Kissinger at NATO in the grand old power game.
But the white bones of Allende tell another, darker story,
Oh, you never got to Chile, but you killed it just the same.

And the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are the scream that breaks the silence of the thousands blown away.
Oh, the white bones of Allende and the scattered bones of Chile
Are not silent, they are screaming; they're your Peace Prize, Doctor K.

Transcribed by ear from Tom Paxton: Best of the Vanguard Years
Originally recorded on New Songs from the Briarpatch, 1977


I suppose this is one of Tom's "short shelf life" topical songs, but it's a good one.
-Joe Offer-