Oh you tell me that there's danger to the land you call your own And you watch them build the war machine right beside your home And you tell me that… - Phil Ochs

Here is a land full of power and glory
Beauty that words cannot recall
Oh her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom
Her glory shall rest on us all.

The painter paints his brushes black
Through the canvas runs a crack
Portrait of the pain never answers back.

As I went out one evening to take the evening air
I was blessed by a blood-red moon
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I spied a fair young maiden and a flame was in her eye
And on her face lay the steel blue skies
Of Lincoln Park, the dark was turning
Turning

They spread their sheets upon the ground just like a wandering tribe
And the wise men walked in their Robespierre robes
Through Lincoln Park the dark was turning
The towers trapped and trembling, and the boats were tossed about
When the fog rolled in and the gas rolled out
From Lincoln Park the dark was turning
Turning

Like wild horses freed at last we took the streets of wine
But I searched in vain for she stayed behind
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning
I'll go back to the city where I can be alone
And tell my friend she lies in stone
In Lincoln Park the dark was turning