Whilst listening to Pick Of The Pops last week, it featured the top 20 of 1965, one of the tracks was by Barry McGuire,
"The Eve Of Destruction" to which Paul Gambaccini added that it could have been written this morning ! Ive added the lyrics below ...but theres more..... This happened to be the first single (45rpm) record I bought, Id actually gone in the shop to buy " Satisfaction" by the Stones but thought the stunning "beatnik" red haired girl behind the counter would be more impressed with my alternative option, ( didn't work) . I think the cost of a single back then was around 6 shillings and sixpence, quite an outlay considering you could get a steak sandwich ( 1/6pence) and a pint of Magnet in the West End pub ( under 18s refuge) for about the same price as the sandwich. For our younger members, 1 shilling and sixpence equates to seven and a half pence today !!
Lyrics
The eastern world, it is explodin',
Violence flarin', bullets loadin',
You're old enough to kill but not for votin',
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin',
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin',
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
Don't you understand, what I'm trying to say?
And can't you feel the fears I'm feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there's no running away,
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave,
Take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy,
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin',
I'm sittin' here, just contemplatin',
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
Handful of Senators don't pass legislation,
And marches alone can't bring integration,
When human respect is disintegratin',
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin',
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
Think of all the hate there is in Red China!
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space,
But when your return, it's the same old place,
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace,
Hate your next door neighbor, but don't forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
You don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
No, no, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
