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Song to Woody Bob Dylan

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  • Chwyty na gitarę Średni
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I'mG out here a thousandD miles from myG home,
CWalkin' aG road otherD men have goneG down.
I'mG seein' your woDrld ofC people andG things,
YourG paupers and peasants andD princes andG kings.

Hey, hey Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
'Bout a funny ol' world that's a-comin' along.
Seems sick an' it's hungry, it's tired an' it's torn,
It looks like it's a-dyin' an' it's hardly been born.

Hey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that I'm a-sayin' an' a-many times more.
I'm a-singin' you the song,
but I can't sing enough,
'Cause there's not many men
that done the things that you've done.

Here's to Cisco an' Sonny an' Leadbelly too,
An' to all the good people that traveled with you.
Here's to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind.

I'm a-leaving' tomorrow, but I could leave today,
Somewhere down the road someday.
The very last thing that I'd want to do
Is to say I've been hittin' some hard travelin' too.



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