Hippie Boy
The Flying Burrito Brothers
I was walking down the street the other day
And a sight came before my eyes.
It was a little hippie boy, I must have been twice his size.
His appearance typified his strange breed,
Gaudy clothes, long stringy hair hanging down
I'd seen perhaps a thousand in my early trips to town.
As he walked beside me on down the block,
I noticed no unpleasing smell.
He might have been on the weed or even LSD,
But if he was I couldn't tell.
So we walked together that way, through this neighborhood
Finally he turned around to me and he, he said :
"Friend, you know we're a million miles apart
But you know something we can enjoy the sunshine and the weather.
So why don't we put our differences aside
And just talk to each other?"
"You see this box beneath my arm?
To you it's plain, it has no charm,
But to someone dearest to my heart
This box has played a tragic part."
"This little one can't tell you himself
about his life and how he died.
But if anyone else could speak for him,
I guess I'm qualified.
This boy was in Chicago,
he didn't know why he was there.
He was with his family and friends
and he didn't really care."
"You might have been one of those,
Who saw the struggle there on your television screen.
The tragic thing is so much else happened,
That no one else could have seen."
"A stranger handed this boy a dollar
to do a simple chore.
To carry a package to a nearby hotel
And when he returned he'd get two more.
But when he came back he sort of lost his way,
Walking through the crowd.
One of them things you ask yourself,
how the Lord allowed."
"But when he was found he was like he is now
Dreaming sweet and still.
And in his little hand was a crumpled dollar bill.
Now, you can take that dollar,
Get four cents on it, compound it
quarterly at any downtown bank.
So they can back some hot new tank or atom bomb."
"What I'm gonna tell you now,
you can stay or you can leave.
You kind of listened to my story so far,
but just one more thing.
It's the same for any hippie, bum or hillbilly
out on the street.
Just remember this little boy
and never carry more than you can eat.
Now, could you help us sing this song, please?"
There will be peace in the valley, for him now we pray
I will think of the little hippie boy that way, that way.