THERE'S A BLACK SMOKE RISIN'

Feelin funny in my mind lord, I believe I'm fixin to die
Feelin funny in my mind lord, I believe I'm fixin to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but I hate to leave my children cryin'

Well look over yonder, to that buryin ground
Look over yonder, to that buryin ground
Sure seems lonesome, lord when the sun goes down

Feelin' funny in my eyes lord, I believe I'm fixin to die, fixin to die
Feelin' funny in my eyes lord, I believe I'm fixin to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but I hate to leave my children cryin'

Well there's black smoke risin' lord, it's risin' up above my head,
up above my head
Well there's black smoke risin' lord, it's risin' up above my head
Can tell Jesus, "Make up my dyin' bed"

Well I'm walkin' kinda funny lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die,
fixin' to die
Yes I'm walkin' kinda funny lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die,
fixin' to die, fixin' to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but I hate to leave my children cryin'

Fixin' to Die
Words and music by Bukka White, as performed by Bob Dylan

The reason I chose to make this page with these lyrics is because
this is the song that kept running through my mind the last two weeks prior to the Sept 11th incident.
I just could not seem to get it out of my head ..and now I doubt I ever will.

:: Black Tuesday, September 11th ::
:: A Memorial page in Tribute to the Fallen, the Heroes and the Heroism of that day ::