Goin' to the Gate of Horn   In my memory   Red light flickerin' on the tablecloth   Big, dark beer in front of me      How I wish that I was there   Standin' at the bar   Listenin' to Mr. Gibson play   On his fine guitar      It's a big old twelve-string   And it went like this   Gate of Horn, Gate of Horn   Glad I was Chicago born   Gate of Horn   Meant everythin' to me      I was barely seventeen   Little salty and a little green   Gate of Horn meant everythin' to me      Once in a while they'd play a jig   There was Judy and Peter and Josh and   Odetta   The Clancies and Mary and Paul made it better   Grossman and Tommy and Dickie and Lou   And when one was looking   McGuinn was there too      Then they came and tore it down   Songbirds scattered and we all left town   Gate of Horn   Meant everythin' to me