Stretch - Fixin' to Die (Bob Dylan) | Текст песни

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• Stretch
• Fixin' to Die (Bob Dylan)

Feeling funny in my mind, lord,

I believe Im fixing to die

Feeling funny in my mind, lord

I believe Im fixing to die

Well, I dont mind dying

But I hate to leave my children crying

Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground

Look over yonder to that burying ground

Sure seems lonesome, lord, when the sun goes down

Feeling funny in my eyes, lord,

I believe Im fixing to die, fixing to die

Feeling funny in my eyes, lord

I believe Im fixing to die

Well, I dont mind dying but

I hate to leave my children crying

Theres a black smoke rising, lord

Its rising up above my head, up above my head

Its rising up above my head, up above my head

And tell jesus make up my dying bed.

Im walking kind of funny, lord

I believe Im fixing to die, fixing to die

Yes Im walking kind of funny, lord

I believe Im fixing to die

Fixing to die, fixing to die

Well, I dont mind dying

But I hate to leave my children crying.

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