I opened the paper, there was your picture
|
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
|
I couldn't believe it, the paper was shakin'
|
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
|
|
I know I'm gonna spend the rest of my lifetime wondering why
|
You found yourself so badly hurt you had to die
|
|
I opened the paper, there was your picture
|
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
|
The phone started ringing, had I heard about it?
|
I shook every time I heard it ring
|
What was my reaction? I put the phone down
|
That was the only news that was fit to sing
|
|
They ask about Dylan, about MacDougal Street and Third
|
Question piled on question and each question more absurd
|
|
I opened the paper, there was your picture
|
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
|
|
**
|
Oh, I remember "There But For Fortune",
|
There but for fortune you and I would go
|
Fortune turned its back on you,
|
Or so it must have seemed to you,
|
Christ alone knows what was the final blow
|
|
The last time I saw you, the last time I saw you,
|
Bleeker Street outside the Other End
|
I told you I'd see you, I got distracted
|
I never saw your face again
|
|
I heard that you were feeling stronger every day
|
I heard that you were well with good things on their way
|
|
Then I opened the paper, there was your picture
|
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand.
|
|
(repeat from **)
|
|
-----------------
|
Phil
|
| Phil Ochs |
