Let the dead bury the dead, your time will come.
Gold will never free your father, the price, my dear, is you instead.
Every cause that ever I fought, I fought it full without regret or shame.
Now the wintertime is coming The windows are filled with frost I went to tell everybody But I could not get across Well, I wanna be your lover, baby I don't wanna be your boss Don't say I never warned you When your train gets lost.
Who am I helping, what am I breaking, what am I giving, what am I taking?
When I was growing up - say in the fifties - the thirties to me didn't even exist. I couldn't even imagine them in any kind of way, so I don't expect anyone growing up now is gonna even understand what the sixties were all about, anymore than I could the thirties or twenties.