DESCRIPTION:
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THE WEST IS DEAD
adapted for song from poem of same name in "Bars and Shadows -- The Prison Poems of Ralph Chaplin" (1926)

Les soleils dorés de vos pères menaient
Vers de vastes plaines vierges et claires --
Savez-vous que l'Ouest est mort ?
Et la liberté disparaît de la terre

Maintenant de mornes cités se mettent à y pulluler
Et la liberté meurt entre montagne et mer --
Savez-vous que l'Ouest est mort ?
Et la liberté disparaît de la terre

De loin et de près, on a dompté et clôturé
Le monde pour lequel se sont saignés vos pères --
Savez-vous que l'Ouest est mort ?
Et la liberté disparaît de la terre...

What path is left for you to tread?
When hunger-wolves are slinking near --
Do you not know the West is dead?
And freedom is not there nor here

Your fathers, golden sunsets led
To virgin prairies wide and clear --
Do you not know the West is dead?
And freedom is not there nor here

Now dismal cities rise instead
And freedom is not there nor here --
What path is left for you to tread?
Along the trails of yesteryear

Your fathers' world, for which they bled,
Is fenced and settled far and near --
Do you not know the West is dead?
And freedom is not there nor here --

Your fathers gained a crust of bread,
Their bones bleach on the lost frontier;
What path is left for you to tread?
Along the trails of yesteryear

Do you not know the West is dead?
And freedom is not there nor here