jul
05
2022

Klopjacht Chicago

Author // frits_tromp1
Posted in // JournalistFrits

We carried you in our arms
On Independence Day
And now you’d throw us all aside
And put us on our way
Oh what dear daughter ’neath the sun
Would treat a father so
To wait upon him hand and foot
And always tell him, “No?”
Tears of rage, tears of grief
Why must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
We’re so alone
And life is brief

© Bob Dylan & Richard Manuel, 1968

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