I wonder which thing made them lose their dream
‘Cause mine is alive, very much it would seemDavid Crosby, A Dream For Him
The story goes that David Crosby, from the Byrds, and Steven Stills, from Buffalo Springfield, were singing around a piano in Joni Mitchell’s place, when Graham Nash heard a harmony part for their vocals that struck something deeper than a nerve. It struck a vibration that resonated in a lot of hearts.
Growing up as a drunk and pothead and 1970s America, David Crosby was a hero to me. He still is. Not just because of his contributions to the musical renaissance of the 1960s, but because his dream stayed alive. Very much it would seem. And that dream – of peace and love – is the one that will rule the world one day. Thanks, in part, to David Crosby.
How am I going to explain it to him What am I going to say when it's something that grim How the hell do you tell them there comes an end How are you going to handle it and still be their friend How do you explain this world we face To all of the innocents we brought to this place These and other questions stand in a row And I'm not satisfied with the answers I know What are you going to say to those eyes I can't even get close to the lies That are easier to tell, you just say oh, well I'll explain it when he's older But somehow that's colder than I want to be I am uncomfortable lying to a child Feels like building a trap for something wild Feels like building your house on the sand And expecting the ocean to let it stand Somehow I must come up with better stuff You see, I'm just not satisfied with all that simplified guff That they shovel at the kids by the handful Like candy they buy at the stand full Of flags by the side of the road It's not good for them to hand them that load of crap like they do You see, I want a world where I can tell him the truth About everything from Jesus to John Wilkes booth How they lie in the house and the senate too Only get close to the truth when it suits them to And the very next day They're back to lying that way Of course it doesn't seem to matter what I want But I look at some of the faces all haggard and gaunt I wonder which thing made them lose their dreams 'Cause mine is alive very much it would seem And I would just like to be able to hand it to him Without the light in those eyes ever getting dim I want a dream for him