(Bob Dylan)
Chorus:
Who killed Davey Moore
How come he died
And what's the reason for
Not I, said the referee, don't point that little finger at me
Sure I could have stopped him in the eighth
And saved him from his terrible fate
But the crowd would have booed I'm sure
At not getting their money's worth
Just too bad he had to go
But there's a lot of pressure on me you know
You can't blame me at all - it wasn't me who made him fall
Not I, said the angry crowd whose screams filled the ring aloud
We just love to see some sweat
There ain't nothing wrong in that
We just love to see a good fight
Too bad he had to die that night
You can't blame us at all - it wasn't us who made him fall
Not I, said the manager, puffing on his big cigar
It's hard to say and hard to tell
I always thought that he was well
Too bad for his wife and kids he's dead
If he was sick he should have said
You can't blame me at all - it wasn't me who made him fall
Not I, said the boxing writer, pounding print on his old type-writer
Boxing never was to blame
There's danger too in a football game
Boxing is here to stay
It's just the old American way
You can't blame me at all - it wasn't me who made him fall
Not I, said the man whose fist laid him down in a cloud of mist
Who came here from Cuba's door
Where boxing ain't allowed any more
Sure I hit him, yes it's true
That's what I was paid to do
So don't say murder, don't say kill
Destiny, God's will
You can't blame me at all - it wasn't me who made him fall
(as sung by Iain MacKintosh)
Susannes Folksong-Notizen English Notes
