| 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 **) |