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Medley: Goodbye Pork Pie Hat/Where Can A Man Find Peace - Andy Summers/Q-Tip
Lyrics by：Charles Mingus
Composed by：Charles Mingus
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Peace
Where do I go to go
Where do I go to go
Some say peace is never won without
A fight or a struggle
Or war or killing and all that
I don't know of any peace ever
Taken through battle cries
How can a victorious peace-winning warmonger ever
Or even enjoy his profited lose that was once his
Joyous captives when his peace can be assured
Only by his constant day through night watch
Even the slaves can at least close
The door of their toilets
A conqueror of peace could not let his hair down really
For he would have to guard himself
With his ears and his mind
To even move his bowels in a healthy manner
Or to note the slightest unusual sound outside
Of his little pools of urine splashes
There might be a peace-loving slave
A peace-loving slave
Resentful at having been told that his slavery
Is a new kind of freedom and peace
So where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find peace
Where do I go to find
Where do I go
I've tried the local bar till my head spun me
To my poor realties of the nearest liquor store
Legal drugs hop and all that
I found no peace
I found no peace and even now on its belly
Or the free-for-alls that chased my livelihood
I know about killing too
In childhood the one left standing bloody
From a razor-sharp row
Was still at less peace than the dead
He was precisely responsible for
And that dude was war of a sort
I thought then
Where were the guardians of our peaceful land of
Justice that could stop such a melee
I found even less peace on their arrival
Armed guardians that the townspeople of
Watts paid their hard-earned wages to
And to protect and guard their children's
Safety with killer's weapons
As a child I blamed the townspeople out there in
Watts or Germany or here
Or wherever peace is enforced by primitive sources
Guns as barbaric as his inventor's fear of himself
For not having ever made peace in himself
And still
I stand in awe of murderers
Still now as when I was a child
Because the history of all mankind is guilty
Guilty of his inner fear of himself
Of the gun he made to protect the
Inside he does not even know
So where do I go to find peace
I've had glimpses of it all all the time alone with myself
And now
I go to my beloved
Lock my door to your guns and that wasted noise
Of people seeking at peace together
Without having ever loved themselves enough
To understand the reasons other children are born
Besides
Our own
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