Fixin` to Die — текст песни (Bob Dylan)

(First release—Booker T. Washington (Bukka) White)

Feeling funny in my mind, Lord,
I believe I`m fixing to die
Feeling funny in my mind, Lord
I believe I`m fixing to die
Well, I don`t mind dying
But I hate to leave my children crying
Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground
Look over yonder to that burying ground
Sure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down

Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord,
I believe I`m fixing to die, fixing to die
Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord
I believe I`m fixing to die
Well, I don`t mind dying but
I hate to leave my children crying
There`s a black smoke rising, Lord
It`s rising up above my head, up above my head
It`s rising up above my head, up above my head
And tell Jesus make up my dying bed.

I`m walking kind of funny, Lord
I believe I`m fixing to die, fixing to die
Yes I`m walking kind of funny, Lord
I believe I`m fixing to die
Fixing to die, fixing to die
Well, I don`t mind dying
But I hate to leave my children crying.