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To Bobby

I'll put flowers at your feet

And I will sing to you so sweet

And hope my words will carry home to your heartYou left us marching on the road

And said how heavy was the load

But the years were young, the struggle barely had its startDo you hear the voices in the night, Bobby?

They're crying for you

See the children in the morning light, Bobby

They're dyingNo one could say it like you said it

We'd only try and just forget it

You stood alone upon the mountain till it was sinkingAnd in a frenzy we tried to reach you

With looks and letters we would beseech you

Never knowing what, where or how you were thinkingDo you hear the voices in the night, Bobby?

They're crying for you

See the children in the morning light, Bobby

They're dyingPerhaps the pictures in the Times

Could no longer be put in rhymes

When all the eyes of starving children are wide openYou cast aside the cursed crown

And put your magic into a sound

That made me think your heart was aching or even brokenBut, if God hears my complaint, He will forgive you

And so will I, with all respect, I'll just relive you

And likewise, you must understand these things we give youLike these flowers at your door

And scribbled notes about the war

We're only saying the time is short and there is work to doAnd we're still marching on the streets

With little victories and big defeats

But there is joy and there is hope and there's a place for youAnd you have heard the voices in the night, Bobby

They're crying for you

See the children in the morning light, Bobby

They're dying

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