Jesse come home, there's a hole in the bed. Where we slept now it's growing cold. Jesse your face in the place where we lay. By the hearth, all apart, it hangs on my heart And I'm leaving the
Little Jesse Younger was a well respected lad. Doing all he could to please his mommy and his dad. But he never planned to be the man they said that he'd become. Somehow or another now his little
(Words and Music by Joan Baez). . Miracles keep happening. The sun rose in the east today. I sat up and sighed for the millionth time. As the dawn was phasing a night away. The blues can last
