I have a little boy at home,
A pretty little son;
I think sometimes the world is mine
In him, my only one. . . 'Ere dawn my labor drives me forth;
Tis night when I am free;
A stranger am I to my child;
And stranger my child to me. . . .
A pretty little son;
I think sometimes the world is mine
In him, my only one. . . 'Ere dawn my labor drives me forth;
Tis night when I am free;
A stranger am I to my child;
And stranger my child to me. . . .
( Howard Zinn )
[ A People's History of the ]
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