| Lyrics: | ANNA I
And the last big town we came to was San Francisco.
Life, there, was fine, only
Anna felt so tired
And grew envious of others:
Of those who pass the time at their ease and
in comfort;
Those too proud to be bought,
Of those whose wrath is kindled by
injustice,
Those who act upon their impulses happily,
Lovers true to their loved
ones,
And those who take what they need without shame;
Whereupon I told my poor tired
sister,
When I saw how much she envied them: |
