‘I came upon a child of God, he was walking along the road. And I asked him, where are you going? – and this he told me. I’m going on down to Yasgur’s farm, I’m going to join in a rock ‘n’ roll band. I’m going to camp out on the land, I’m going to try and get my soul free.
We are stardust, we are golden – and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden…’
‘Then can I walk beside you, I have come here to lose the smog – and I feel like a cog in something turning. Well, maybe it is just the time of year, or maybe it’s the time of man, I don’t know who l am, but life’s for learning.
We are stardust. We are golden. And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden…
By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong – and everywhere there was song and celebration. And I dreamed I saw the bombers riding shotgun in the sky, turning into butterflies above our nation.
We are stardust. We are golden. And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden… ‘
Breaside, Brea Village