{"name": "You're No Good", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Well, I don't know why I love you like I do -\nNobody in the world can get along with you.\nYou got the ways of a devil sleeping in a lion's den -\nI come home last night, you wouldn't even let me in.\n\nWell, sometimes you're as sweet as anybody wanna be\nWhen you get a crazy notion of jumping all over me.\nWell, you give me the blues, I guess you're satisfied,\nAnd you give me the blues, I wanna lay down and die.\n\nI helped you when you had no shoes on your feet, pretty mama,\nI helped you when you had no food to eat.\nYou're the kind of woman I just don't understand -\nYou're taking all my money and give it to another man.\n\nWell, you're the kinda woman makes a man lose his brains,\nYou're the kinda woman drives a man insane.\nYou give me the blues, I guess you're satisfied,\nYou give me the blues, I wanna lay down and die,\nWell, you give me the blues, I wanna lay down and die."}
{"name": "Talkin' New York", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Rambling outta the Wild West,\nLeaving the towns I love the best,\nThought I'd seen some ups and downs\nTill I come into New York town:\nPeople going down to the ground,\nBuildings going up to the sky.\n\nWintertime in New York town,\nThe wind blowing the snow around,\nWalk around with nowhere to go,\nSomebody could freeze right to the bone -\nI froze right to the bone.\nNew York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years -\nI didn't feel so cold then.\n\nI swung on to my old guitar,\nGrabbed hold of a subway car,\nAnd after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride\nI landed up on the downtown side,\nGreenwich Village.\n\nI walked down there and ended up\nIn one of them coffeehouses on the block.\nI'd get on the stage and sing and play,\nMan there said, \"Come back some other day.\nYou sound like a hillbilly.\nWe want folksingers here.\"\n\nWell, I got a harmonica job, begun to play,\nBlowing my lungs out for a dollar a day.\nI blowed inside out and upside down,\nThe man there said he loved my sound,\nHe was raving about how he loved my sound -\nDollar a day's worth.\n\nNow, after weeks and weeks of hanging around,\nI finally got a job in New York town.\nIn a bigger place, bigger money too,\nEven joined a union, paid my dues.\n\nNow, a very great man once said\nThat some people rob you with a fountain pen.\nIt don't take too long to find out\nJust what he was talking about.\nA lot of people don't have much food on their table,\nBut they got a lot of forks and knives -\nAnd they gotta cut something.\n\nSo, one morning when the sun was warm\nI rambled out of New York town,\nPulled my cap down over my eyes,\nHeaded out for the western skies.\nSo long, New York!\nHowdy, East Orange!"}
{"name": "In My Time of Dyin'", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Well, in my time of dying, don't want nobody to mourn.\nAll I want for you to do is take my body home,\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nWell, well, well,\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nJesus gonna make up-Jesus gonna make up-\nJesus gonna make up my dying bed.\n\nWell, meet me, Jesus, meet me,\nMeet me in the middle of the air.\nIf these wings should fail me, Lord,\nWon't you meet me with another pair?\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nWell, well, well,\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nJesus gonna make up-Jesus gonna make up-\nJesus gonna make up my dying bed.\n\nLord, in my time of dying, don't want nobody to cry.\nAll I want you to do is take me when I die,\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nWell, well, well,\nWell, well, well, so I can die easy,\nJesus gonna make up-Jesus gonna make up-\nJesus gonna make up my dying bed."}
{"name": "Man of Constant Sorrow", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "I am a man of constant sorrow,\nI've seen trouble all my days.\nI'll say goodbye to Colorado,\nWhere I was born and partly raised.\n\nYour mother says I'm a stranger,\nMy face you'll never see no more.\nBut there's one promise, darling:\nI'll see you on God's golden shore.\n\nThrough this open world I'm bound to ramble,\nThrough ice and snow, sleet and rain.\nI'm bound to ride that morning railroad.\nPerhaps I'll die on that train.\n\nI'm going back to Colorado,\nThe place that I started from.\nIf I'd knowed how bad you'd treat me,\nHoney, I never would have come."}
{"name": "Fixin' to Die", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Feeling funny in my mind, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die.\nFeeling funny in my mind, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die.\nWell, I don't mind dying,\nBut I hate to leave my children crying.\nWell, look over yonder to that burying ground!\nLook over yonder to that burying ground!\nSure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down.\n\nFeeling funny in my eyes, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die.\nFeeling funny in my eyes, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die.\nWell, I don't mind dying,\nBut I hate to leave my children crying.\nThere's a black smoke rising, Lord,\nIt's rising up above my head, up above my head.\nWell, there's black smoke rising, Lord,\nIt's rising up above my head,\nAnd tell Jesus make up my dying bed.\n\nWell, I'm walking kind of funny, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die.\nYes, I'm walking kind of funny, Lord,\nI believe I'm fixing to die,\nFixing to die, fixing to die.\nWell, I don't mind dying,\nBut I hate to leave my children crying."}
{"name": "Pretty Peggy-O", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "I've been around this whole country,\nBut I never yet found Fennario.\n\nWell, as we marched down, as we marched down,\nWell, as we marched down to Fennario,\nWell, our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove.\nHer name that she had was Pretty Peggy-O.\n\nWell, what will your mother say, what will your mother say,\nWhat will your mother say, Pretty Peggy-O?\nWhat will your mother say to know you're going away,\nYou're never, never, never coming back-i-O?\n\nCome running down your stairs, come running down your stairs,\nCome running down your stairs, Pretty Peggy-O!\nCome running down your stairs, combing back your yellow hair,\nYou're the prettiest darned girl I ever seen-i-O!\n\nThe lieutenant, he has gone, the lieutenant, he has gone,\nThe lieutenant, he has gone, Pretty Peggy-O!\nThe lieutenant, he has gone, long gone.\nHe's riding down in Texas with the rodeo.\n\nWell, the captain, he is dead, our captain, he is dead,\nOur captain, he is dead, Pretty Peggy-O!\nWell, our captain, he is dead - died for a maid.\nHe's buried somewheres in Louisiana-O."}
{"name": "Highway 51", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door.\nHighway 51 runs right by my baby's door.\nIf I don't get the girl I'm loving, won't go down Highway 51 no more.\n\nWell, I know that highway like I know my hand.\nYes, I know that highway like I know the back of my hand.\nRunning from up Wisconsin way down to no man's land.\n\nWell, if I should die 'fore my time should come,\nAnd if I should die 'fore my time should come,\nWon't you bury my body out on Highway 51?\n\nHighway 51 runs right by my baby's door.\nI said Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door.\nIf I don't get the gal I'm loving, won't go down Highway 51 no more."}
{"name": "Gospel Plow", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Mary wore three links of chain.\nEvery link was Jesus's name.\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\nOh, Lord, oh, Lord,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\n\nMary, Mark, and Luke, and John,\nAll them prophets good and gone,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\nOh, Lord, oh, Lord,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\n\nWell, I never been to heaven, but I've been told\nStreets up there're lined with gold.\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\nOh, Lord, oh, Lord,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\nOh, Lord, oh, Lord,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!\nOh, Lord, oh, Lord,\nKeep-a your hand on that plow, hold on!"}
{"name": "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "I first heard this from Rick von Schmidt. He lives in Cambridge. Rick's a blues guitar player. I met him one day in the green pastures of Harvard University.\n\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\n\nCan I come home with you?\nBaby, can I come home with you?\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me come home with you.\n\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down.\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down."}
{"name": "House of the Rising Sun", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "There is a house down in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun\nAnd it's been the ruin of many a poor girl - and me - oh, God! - I'm a one.\n\nMy mother was a tailor - she sewed these new blue jeans.\nMy sweetheart was a gambler, Lord, down in New Orleans.\n\nNow, the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk\nAnd the only time he's satisfied is when he's on a drunk.\n\nHe fills his glasses up to the brim and he'll pass the cards around\nAnd the only pleasure he gets out of life is rambling from town to town.\n\nOh, tell my baby sister not to do what I have done,\nBut shun that house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun.\n\nWell, it's one foot on the platform and the other foot on the train.\nI'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain.\n\nI'm going back to New Orleans - my race is almost run.\nI'm going back to end my life down in the Rising Sun.\n\nThere is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun\nAnd it's been the ruin of many a poor girl - and me - oh, God! - I'm a one."}
{"name": "Freight Train Blues", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "I was born in Dixie in a boomer's shack,\nJust a little shanty by the railroad track.\nFreight train was the one taught me how to cry,\nHumming all the drivers with my lullaby.\nI've got the freight train blues!\nOh, lawdy, mama, got 'em in the bottom of my rambling shoes!\n\nAnd when the whistle blows, I got to go - baby, don't you know?\nIt looks like I'm never gonna lose the freight train blues.\n\nWell, my daddy was a fireman and my mama, hey,\nShe was the only daughter of the engineer.\nMy sweetheart was a brakeman and it ain't no joke,\nIt's a shame the way she keeps a good man broke.\nI got the freight train blues!\nOh, lawdy, I got 'em in the bottom of my rambling shoes!\n\nAnd when the whistle blows, I got to go - oh, mama, don't you know?\nWell, it looks like I'm never gonna lose the freight train blues.\n\nWell, the only thing that makes me laugh again\nIs a southbound whistle on a southbound train.\nEvery place I wanna go\nI never can go because, you know,\nI got the freight train blues!\nOh, lawdy, mama, got 'em in the bottom of my rambling shoes!"}
{"name": "Song to Woody", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "I'm out here a thousand miles from my home,\nWalking a road other men have gone down.\nI'm seeing your world of people and things,\nYour paupers and peasants and princes and kings.\n\nHey, hey, Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song\n'Bout a funny, old world that's coming along.\nSeems sick and it's hungry, it's tired and it's torn.\nIt looks like it's dying and it's hardly been born.\n\nHey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know\nAll the things that I'm saying and many times more.\nI'm singing you the song, but I can't sing enough\n'Cause there's not many men that done the things that you've done.\n\nHere's to Cisco, and Sonny, and Leadbelly too,\nAnd to all the good people that traveled with you.\nHere's to the hearts and the hands of the men\nThat come with the dust and are gone with the wind.\n\nI'm leaving tomorrow, but I could leave today.\nSomewhere down the road some day,\nThe very last thing that I'd want to do\nIs to say I've been hitting some hard traveling too."}
{"name": "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean", "album": "Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1962", "text": "Well, there's one kind of favor I'll ask of you,\nWell, there's one kind of favor I'll ask of you,\nThere's just one kind of favor I'll ask of you:\nYou can see that my grave is kept clean.\n\nAnd there's two white horses following me,\nAnd there's two white horses following me,\nI got two white horses following me,\nWaiting on my burying ground.\n\nDid you ever hear that coffin sound?\nDid you ever hear that coffin sound?\nDid you ever hear that coffin sound?\nMeans another poor boy is underground.\n\nDid you ever hear them church bells toll?\nHave you ever heard them church bells toll?\nDid you ever hear them church bells toll?\nMeans another poor boy is dead and gone.\n\nWell, my heart stopped beating, my hands turned cold,\nAnd my heart stopped beating and my hands turned cold,\nWell, my heart stopped beating and my hands turned cold.\nNow I believe what the Bible told.\n\nThere's just one last favor I'll ask of you,\nAnd there's one last favor I'll ask of you,\nThere's just one last favor I'll ask of you:\nSee that my grave is kept clean."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "Girl from the North Country", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "If you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to the one who lives there\nFor she once was a true love of mine.\n\nIf you go when the snowflakes storm,\nWhen the rivers freeze and summer ends,\nPlease see she has a coat so warm,\nTo keep her from the howling winds.\n\nPlease see if her hair hangs long,\nIf it rolls and flows all down her breast.\nPlease see for me if her hair's hanging long\nFor that's the way I remember her best.\n\nI'm wondering if she remembers me at all.\nMany times I've often prayed\nIn the darkness of my night,\nIn the brightness of my day.\n\nSo, if you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to the one who lives there\nFor she once was a true love of mine."}
{"name": "Masters of War", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Come, you masters of war, you that build the big guns,\nYou that build the death planes, you that build all the bombs,\nYou that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks,\nI just want you to know I can see through your masks.\n\nYou that never done nothing but build to destroy,\nYou play with my world like it's your little toy,\nYou put a gun in my hand and you hide from my eyes\nAnd you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly.\n\nLike Judas of old, you lie and deceive,\nA world war can be won you want me to believe,\nBut I see through your eyes and I see through your brain\nLike I see through the water that runs down my drain.\n\nYou fasten all the triggers for the others to fire,\nThen you set back and watch when the death-count gets higher\nAnd you hide in your mansion while the young people's blood\nFlows out of their bodies and is buried in the mud.\n\nYou've thrown the worst fear that can ever be hurled,\nFear to bring children into the world.\nFor threatening my baby, unborn and unnamed,\nYou ain't worth the blood that runs in your veins.\n\nHow much do I know, to talk out of turn?\nYou might say that I'm young, you might say I'm unlearned.\nBut there's one thing I know, though I'm younger than you:\nThat even Jesus would never forgive what you do.\n\nLet me ask you one question: Is your money that good?\nWill it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?\nI think you will find, when your death takes its toll,\nAll the money you made will never buy back your soul.\n\nAnd I hope that you die and your death will come soon,\nI'll follow your casket on the pale afternoon\nAnd I'll watch while you're lowered down to your deathbed\nAnd I'll stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're dead."}
{"name": "Down the Highway", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Well, I'm walking down the highway\nWith my suitcase in my hand.\nYes, I'm walking down the highway\nWith my suitcase in my hand.\nLord, I really miss my baby!\nShe's in some foreign land.\n\nWell, your streets are getting empty,\nLord, your highway's getting filled.\nAnd your streets are getting empty,\nAnd your highway's getting filled.\nWell, the way I love that woman,\nI swear it's bound to get me killed.\n\nWell, I been gambling so long,\nLord, I ain't got much more to lose.\nYes, I been gambling so long,\nLord, I ain't got much more to lose.\nRight now I'm having trouble.\nPlease don't take away my highway shoes.\n\nWell, I'm bound to get lucky, baby,\nOr I'm bound to die trying.\nYes, I'm bound to get lucky, baby,\nLord, Lord, I'm bound to die trying.\nWell, meet me in the middle of the ocean\nAnd we'll leave this old highway behind.\n\nWell, the ocean took my baby,\nMy baby stole my heart from me.\nYes, the ocean took my baby,\nMy baby took my heart from me.\nShe packed it all up in a suitcase.\nLord, she took it away to Italy, Italy.\n\nSo, I'm walking down your highway\nJust as far as my poor eyes can see.\nYes, I'm walking down your highway\nJust as far as my eyes can see,\nFrom the Golden Gate Bridge\nAll the way to the Statue of Liberty."}
{"name": "Bob Dylan's Blues", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Unlike most of the songs nowadays are being written uptown in Tin Pan Alley - that's where most of the folk songs come from nowadays, this-this is a song-this wasn't written up there, this was written somewhere down in the United States.\n\nWell, the Lone Ranger and Tonto were riding down the line,\nFixing everybody's troubles - everybody's 'cept mine.\nSomeone musta told 'em that I was doing fine.\n\nOh, you five- and ten-cent women with nothing in your heads,\nI got a real gal I'm loving, Lord, I'll love her till I'm dead.\nGo away from my door and my window too, right now.\n\nLord, I ain't going down to no racetrack see no sports car run.\nI don't have no sports car and I don't even care to have one.\nI can walk anytime around the block.\n\nWell, the wind keeps blowing me up and down the street,\nWith my hat in my hand and my boots on my feet.\nWatch out so you don't step on me!\n\nWell, look it here, buddy, you wanna be like me?\nPull out your six-shooter and rob every bank you can see.\nTell the judge I said it was alright, yeah!"}
{"name": "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd where have you been, my darling young one?\nI've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,\nI've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,\nI've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,\nI've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,\nI've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you see, my darling young one?\nI saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,\nI saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,\nI saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping,\nI saw a room full of men with their hammers bleeding,\nI saw a white ladder all covered with water,\nI saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,\nI saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nWhat did you hear, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you hear, my darling young one?\nI heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warning,\nI heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,\nI heard one hundred drummers whose hands were blazing,\nI heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening,\nI heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing,\nI heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,\nI heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you meet, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd who did you meet, my darling young one?\nI met a young child beside a dead pony,\nI met a white man who walked a black dog,\nI met a young woman whose body was burning,\nI met a young girl - she gave me a rainbow,\nI met one man who was wounded in love,\nI met another man who was wounded in hatred,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nAnd what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what'll you do now, my darling young one?\nI'm going back out 'fore the rain starts falling,\nI'll walk to the depths of the deepest, dark forest,\nWhere the people are many and their hands are all empty,\nWhere the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,\nWhere the home in the valley meets the damp, dirty prison\nAnd the executioner's face is always well-hidden,\nWhere hunger is ugly, where the souls are forgotten,\nWhere black is the color, where none is the number,\nAnd I'll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it,\nAnd reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,\nAnd I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking,\nBut I'll know my song well before I start singing,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall."}
{"name": "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIf'n you don't know by now.\nAnd it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe -\nIt'll never do, somehow.\nWhen your rooster crows at the break of dawn,\nLook out your window and I'll be gone.\nYou're the reason I'm traveling on,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nThe light I never knowed.\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe -\nI'm on the dark side of the road.\nBut I wish there was something you would do or say\nTo try and make me change my mind and stay.\nBut we never did too much talking, anyway.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo, it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal,\nLike you never done before.\nAnd it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal -\nI can't hear you anymore.\nI'm thinking and wondering, walking down the road.\nI once loved a woman - a child, I am told.\nI give her my heart, but she wanted my soul.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo long, honey babe.\nWhere I'm bound I can't tell.\nGoodbye's too good a word, babe,\nSo I'll just say \"Fare thee well\".\nI ain't saying you treated me unkind.\nYou coulda done better, but I don't mind.\nYou just kinda wasted my precious time,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright."}
{"name": "Bob Dylan's Dream", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "While riding on a train going west,\nI fell asleep for to take my rest.\nI dreamed a dream that made me sad,\nConcerning myself and the first few friends I had.\n\nWith half-damp eyes I stared to the room\nWhere my friends and I spent many an afternoon,\nWhere we together weathered many a storm,\nLaughing and singing till the early hours of the morn,\n\nBy the old wooden stove where our hats was hung,\nOur words was told, our songs was sung,\nWhere we longed for nothing and were satisfied,\nJoking and talking about the world outside.\n\nWith hungry hearts through the heat and cold,\nWe never much thought we could get very old,\nWe thought we could sit forever in fun.\nOur chances really was a million to one.\n\nAs easy it was to tell black from white,\nIt was all that easy to tell wrong from right.\nAnd our choices, they was few so the thought never hit\nThat the one road we traveled would ever shatter or split.\n\nHow many a year has passed and gone,\nMany a gamble has been lost and won,\nAnd many a road taken by many a first friend -\nAnd each one I've never seen again.\n\nI wish-I wish-I wish in vain\nThat we could sit simply in that room again.\nTen thousand dollars at the drop of a hat,\nI'd give it all gladly if our lives could be like that."}
{"name": "Oxford Town", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Oxford Town, Oxford Town,\nEverybody's got their heads bowed down,\nSun don't shine above the ground.\nAin't going down to Oxford Town.\n\nHe went down to Oxford Town.\nGuns and clubs followed him down\nAll because his face was brown.\nBetter get away from Oxford Town.\n\nOxford Town around the bend,\nCome to the door, he couldn't get in\nAll because of the color of his skin.\nWhat do you think about that, my friend?\n\nMe and my gal, my gal's son,\nWe got met with a tear gas bomb.\nI don't even know why we come.\nGoing back where we come from.\n\nOxford Town in the afternoon,\nEverybody singing a sorrowful tune.\nTwo men died 'neath the Mississippi moon.\nSomebody better investigate soon."}
{"name": "Corrina, Corrina", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Corrina, Corrina,\nGal, where you been so long?\nCorrina, Corrina,\nGal, where you been so long?\nI been worrying about you, baby.\nBaby, please come home.\n\nI got a bird that whistles,\nI got a bird that sings.\nI got a bird that whistles,\nI got a bird that sings.\nBut I ain't got Corrina.\nLife don't mean a thing.\n\nCorrina, Corrina,\nGal, you're on my mind.\nCorrina, Corrina,\nGal, you're on my mind.\nI was sitting down thinking of you.\nI just can't keep from crying."}
{"name": "Talkin' WWIII Blues", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "One time ago a crazy dream came to me,\nI dreamt I was walking in World War III.\nWent to the doctor the very next day\nTo see what kinda words he could say.\nSaid it was a bad dream.\n\"I wouldn't worry 'bout it none, though. Them old dreams are only in your head.\"\n\nI said, \"Hold it, doc, a World War passed through my brain!\"\nHe said, \"Nurse, get your pad, the boy's insane!\"\nHe grabbed my arm, I said \"Ouch!\"\nAs I landed on the psychiatric couch.\nHe said, \"Tell me about it.\"\n\n\"Well, the whole thing started at three o'clock fast,\nIt was all over by a quarter past.\nI was down in the sewer with some little lover\nWhen I peeked out from a manhole cover,\nWondering who turned the lights on us.\n\n\"Well, I got up and I walked around,\nUp and down the lonesome town.\nI stood wondering which way to go.\nI lit a cigarette on a parking meter and walked on down the road.\nIt was a normal day.\n\n\"Well, I rung the fallout shelter bell\nAnd I leaned my head and I give a yell:\n'Give me a string bean! I'm a hungry man!'\nShotgun fired and away I ran.\nI don't blame him too much, though. He didn't know me.\n\n\"Down the corner by the hot dog stand,\nI seen a man.\nI said, 'Howdy, friend, I guess it's just us two.'\nHe screamed a bit and away he flew.\nThought I was a communist.\n\n\"Well, I spied me a girl and, before she could leave,\nI said, 'Let's go and play Adam and Eve.'\nTook her by the hand and my heart was thumping,\nShe said, 'Hey, man, you crazy or something?\nYou seen what happened last time they started.'\n\n\"Well, I seen your Cadillac window up-town.\nThere was nobody around.\nI got into the driver's seat\nAnd I drove down Forty-second Street,\nIn my Cadillac.\nGood car to drive, after a war.\n\n\"Well, I remember seeing some ad\nSo I turned on my Conelrad.\nBut I didn't pay the Con Ed bill\nSo the radio didn't work so well.\nTurned on my record player.\nIt was Rock-A-Day Johnny singing,\n'Tell your ma, tell your pa,\nOur loves are gonna grow, ooh-wah, ooh-wah.'\n\n\"I was feeling kinda lonesome and blue,\nI needed somebody to talk to.\nSo, I called up the operator of time\nJust to hear a voice of some kind.\n'When you hear the beep it will be three o'clock.'\nShe said that for over an hour and I hung up.\"\n\nWell, the doctor interrupted me just about then,\nSaying, \"Hey, I've been having the same old dreams.\nBut mine was a little different, you see.\nI dreamt the only person left after the war was me.\nI didn't see you around.\"\n\nWell, now, time passed and now it seems\nEverybody's having them dreams.\nEverybody sees hisself\nWalking around with no one else.\n\"Half the people can be part right all of the time and some of the people can be all right part of the time, but all the people can't be all right all of the time.\"\nI think Abraham Lincoln said that.\n\"I'll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours.\"\nI said that."}
{"name": "Honey, Just Allow Me One More Chance", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Honey, just allow me one more chance to get along with you.\nHoney, just allow me one more chance, I'll do anything for you.\nWell, I'm walking down the road with my head in my hand.\nI'm looking for a woman needs a worried man.\nJust a one kind favor I ask of you: allow me just one more chance.\n\nHoney, just allow me one more chance to ride your aeroplane.\nHoney, just allow me one more chance to ride your passenger train.\nWell, I've been looking all over for a girl like you.\nI can't find nobody so you'll have to do.\nJust a one kind favor I ask of you: allow me just one more chance.\n\nHoney, just allow me one more chance to get along with you.\nHoney, just allow me one more chance, I'll do anything for you.\nWell, looking for a woman that ain't got no man\nIs just looking for a needle that's lost in the sand.\nJust a one kind favor I ask of you: allow me just one more chance."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Free", "album": "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1963", "text": "Well, I took me a woman late last night.\nI was three-fourths drunk, she looked alright -\nTill she started peeling off her onion gook.\nShe took off her wig, said, \"How do I look?\"\nI's high-flying, bare-naked, out the window!\n\nWell, sometimes I might get drunk,\nWalk like a duck, and smell like a skunk.\nDon't hurt me none, it don't hurt my pride\n'Cause I got my little lady right by my side.\nShe's trying to hide, pretending she don't know me!\n\nI's out there painting on the old woodshed\nWhen a can of black paint did fell on my head.\nI went down to scrub and rub,\nBut I had to sit in back of the tub.\nCost a quarter, half-price.\n\nWell, my telephone rang, it would not stop.\nIt's President Kennedy calling me up.\nHe said, \"My friend, Bob, what do we need to make the country grow?\"\nI said, \"My friend, John, Brigitte Bardot,\nAnita Ekberg, Sophia Loren.\nCountry'll grow.\"\n\nWell, I got a woman five feet short,\nShe yells and hollers and screams and snorts.\nShe tickles my nose, pats me on the head,\nRolls me over, and kicks me out of bed.\nShe's a man-eater, meat-grinder, bad loser.\n\nOh, there ain't no use in me working all the time:\nI got a woman who works herself blind.\nWorks up to her britches, up to her neck,\nWrites me letters, and sends me checks.\nShe's a humdinger, folksinger.\n\nLate one day in the middle of the week,\nMy eyes were closed, I was half asleep.\nI chased me a woman up the hill\nRight in the middle of an air-raid drill.\nI jumped a fallout shelter! I jumped a string bean! I jumped a TV dinner! I jumped a shotgun!\n\nNow, the man on the stand, he wants my vote,\nHe's running for office on the ballot note.\nHe's out there preaching in front of the steeple,\nTelling me he loves all kinds of people.\nHe's eating bagels. He's eating pizza. He's eating chitlins.\n\nOh, set me down on a television floor,\nI'll flip the channel to number four.\nOut of the shower comes a football man\nWith a bottle of oil in his hand,\nGreasy kid stuff. What I want to know, Mr. Football Man, is what do you do about Willy Mays? Martin Luther King? Olatunji?\n\nWell, the funniest woman I ever seen\nWas the great-granddaughter of Mr. Clean.\nShe takes about fifteen baths a day,\nWants me to grow a mustache on my face.\nShe's insane!\n\nWell, ask me why I'm drunk all the time -\nLevels my head and eases my mind.\nI just walk along and stroll and sing,\nI see better days and I do better things.\nI catch dinosaurs! Make love to Elizabeth Taylor! Catch hell from Richard Burton!"}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThe battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "Ballad of Hollis Brown", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Hollis Brown, he lived on the outside of town,\nHollis Brown, he lived on the outside of town\nWith his wife and five children and his cabin broken down.\n\nYou looked for work and money and you walked a ragged mile.\nYou looked for work and money and you walked a ragged mile.\nYour children are so hungry that they don't know how to smile.\n\nYour baby's eyes look crazy, they're tugging at your sleeve,\nYour baby's eyes look crazy, they're tugging at your sleeve.\nYou walk the floor and wonder why with every breath you breathe.\n\nThe rats have got your flour, bad blood, it got your mare,\nThe rats have got your flour, bad blood, it got your mare.\nIf there's anyone that knows, is there anyone that cares?\n\nYou prayed to the Lord above, oh, please send you a friend,\nYou prayed to the Lord above, oh, please send you a friend.\nYour empty pockets tell you that you ain't got no friend.\n\nYour babies're crying louder now, it's pounding on your brain,\nYour babies're crying louder, now, it's pounding on your brain.\nYour wife's screams're stabbing you like the dirty, driving rain.\n\nYour grass is turning black, there's no water in your well,\nYour grass is turning black, there's no water in your well.\nYou spent your last, lone dollar on seven shotgun shells.\n\nWay out in the wilderness a cold coyote calls,\nWay out in the wilderness a cold coyote calls.\nYour eyes fix on the shotgun that's hanging on the wall.\n\nYour brain is bleeding and your legs can't seem to stand,\nYour brain is bleeding and your legs can't seem to stand.\nYour eyes fix on the shotgun that you're holding in your hand.\n\nThere's seven breezes blowing all around the cabin door,\nThere's seven breezes blowing all around the cabin door.\nSeven shots ring out like the ocean's pounding roar.\n\nThere's seven people dead on a South Dakota farm,\nThere's seven people dead on a South Dakota farm.\nSomewheres in the distance there's seven new people born."}
{"name": "With God on Our Side", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Oh, my name, it ain't nothing, my age, it means less,\nThe country I come from is called the Midwest,\nI's taught and brought up there the laws to abide\nAnd that the land that I live in has God on its side.\n\nOh, the history books tell it, they tell it so well:\nThe cavalries charged, the Indians fell,\nThe cavalries charged, the Indians died.\nOh, the country was young with God on its side.\n\nThe Spanish-American War had its day\nAnd the Civil War too was soon laid away\nAnd the names of the heroes I's made to memorize\nWith guns in their hands and God on their side.\n\nThe First World War, boys, it came and it went.\nThe reason for fighting I never did get,\nBut I learned to accept it, accept it with pride\nFor you don't count the dead when God's on your side.\n\nThe Second World War came to an end,\nWe forgave the Germans and then we were friends.\nThough they murdered six million, in the ovens they fried,\nThe Germans now too have God on their side.\n\nI've learned to hate the Russians all through my whole life,\nIf another war comes, it's them we must fight,\nTo hate them and fear them, to run and to hide,\nAnd accept it all bravely with God on my side.\n\nBut now we got weapons of chemical dust,\nIf fire them we're forced to, then fire them we must,\nOne push of the button and a shot the world wide,\nAnd you never ask questions when God's on your side.\n\nThrough many a dark hour I've been thinking about this,\nThat Jesus Christ was betrayed by a kiss,\nBut I can't think for you, you'll have to decide\nWhether Judas Iscariot had God on his side.\n\nSo, now as I'm leaving, I'm weary as hell,\nThe confusion I'm feeling ain't no tongue can tell,\nThe words fill my head and fall to the floor,\nThat, if God's on our side, He'll stop the next war."}
{"name": "One Too Many Mornings", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Down the street the dogs are barking and the day is getting dark,\nAs the night comes in falling, the dogs'll lose their bark,\nAnd the silent night will shatter from the sounds inside my mind.\nYes, I'm one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nFrom the crossroads of my doorstep my eyes start to fade\nAnd I turn my head back to the room where my love and I have laid\nAnd I gaze back to the street, the sidewalk, and the sign\nAnd I'm one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nIt's a restless, hungry feeling that don't mean no one no good\nWhen everything I'm saying you can say it just as good.\nYou're right from your side, I'm right from mine,\nWe're both just one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind."}
{"name": "North Country Blues", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Come gather 'round, friends, and I'll tell you a tale\nOf when the red iron ore pits run aplenty.\nBut the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benches\nTell you now that the whole town is empty.\n\nIn the north end of town my own children're grown.\nBut I was raised on the other.\nIn the wee hours of youth, my mother took sick\nAnd I was brought up by my brother.\n\nThe iron ore poured as the years passed the door,\nThe drag lines and the shovels, they was humming\nTill one day my brother failed to come home,\nThe same as my father before him.\n\nWell, the long winter's wait from the window I watched.\nMy friends, they couldn't have been kinder.\nAnd my schooling was cut as I quit in the spring\nTo marry John Thomas, a miner.\n\nOh, the years passed again and the giving was good,\nWith the lunch bucket filled every season.\nWhat with three babies born, the work was cut down\nTo a half a day's shift with no reason.\n\nThen the shaft was soon shut and more work was cut\nAnd the fire in the air, it felt frozen\nTill a man come to speak and he said in one week\nThat number eleven was closing.\n\nThey complained in the East - they are paying too high.\nThey say that your ore ain't worth digging,\nThat it's much cheaper down in the South American towns,\nWhere the miners work almost for nothing.\n\nSo, the mining gates locked and the red iron rotted\nAnd the room smelled heavy from drinking\nWhen the sad, silent song made the hour twice as long\nAs I waited for the sun to go sinking.\n\nI lived by the window as he talked to himself -\nThis silence of tongues, it was building.\nTill one morning's wake the bed, it was bare\nAnd I's left alone with three children.\n\nThe summer is gone, the ground's turning cold.\nThe stores one by one, they're folding.\nMy children will go as soon as they grow.\nWell, there ain't nothing here now to hold them."}
{"name": "Only a Pawn in Their Game", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers's blood,\nA finger fired the trigger to his name,\nA handle hid out in the dark,\nA hand set the spark,\nTwo eyes took the aim\nBehind a man's brain.\nBut he can't be blamed,\nHe's only a pawn in their game.\n\nA South politician preaches to the poor white man:\nYou got more than the blacks, don't complain!\nYou're better than them, you been born with white skin, they explain.\nAnd the Negro's name\nIs used, it is plain,\nFor the politician's gain,\nAs he rises to fame\nAnd the poor white remains\nOn the caboose of the train.\nBut it ain't him to blame,\nHe's only a pawn in their game.\n\nThe deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid,\nAnd the marshals and cops get the same.\nBut the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool.\nHe's taught in his school\nFrom the start by the rule\nThat the laws are with him,\nTo protect his white skin,\nTo keep up his hate,\nSo he never thinks straight\n'Bout the shape that he's in.\nBut it ain't him to blame,\nHe's only a pawn in their game.\n\nFrom the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks\nAnd the hoof-beats pound in his brain.\nAnd he's taught how to walk in a pack,\nShoot in the back\nWith his fist in a clinch,\nTo hang and to lynch,\nTo hide 'neath a hood,\nTo kill with no pain.\nLike a dog on a chain,\nHe ain't-a got no name.\nBut it ain't him to blame,\nHe's only a pawn in their game.\n\nToday Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught.\nThey lowered him down as a king,\nBut, when the shadowy sun sets on the one\nThat fired the gun,\nHe'll see by his grave\nOn the stone that remains,\nCarved next to his name,\nHis epitaph plain:\n\"Only a Pawn in Their Game.\""}
{"name": "Boots of Spanish Leather", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "\"Oh, I'm sailing away, my own true love,\nI'm sailing away in the morning.\nIs there something I can send you from across the sea,\nFrom the place that I'll be landing?\"\n\n\"No, there's nothing you can send me, my own true love,\nThere's nothing I'm wishing to be owning.\nJust carry yourself back to me unspoiled\nFrom across that lonesome ocean.\"\n\n\"Ah, but I just thought you might want something fine,\nMade of silver or of golden,\nEither from the mountains of Madrid\nOr from the coast of Barcelona.\"\n\n\"Well, if I had the stars of the darkest night\nAnd the diamonds from the deepest ocean,\nI'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss\nFor that's all I'm wishing to be owning.\"\n\n\"That I might be gone a long, old time\nAnd it's only that I'm asking,\nIs there something I can send you to remember me by\nTo make your time more easy-passing?\"\n\n\"Oh, how can-how can you ask me again?\nIt only brings me sorrow.\nThe same thing I would want today\nI would want again tomorrow.\"\n\nOh, I got a letter on a lonesome day,\nIt was from her ship sailing,\nSaying, \"I don't know when I'll be coming back again,\nIt depends on how I'm feeling.\"\n\n\"If you, my love, must think that way,\nI'm sure your mind is roaming,\nI'm sure your thoughts are not with me,\nBut with the country to where you're going.\n\n\"So, take heed, take heed of the western winds,\nTake heed of the stormy weather.\nAnd, yes, there's something you can send back to me:\nSpanish boots of Spanish leather.\""}
{"name": "When the Ship Comes In", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Oh, the time will come up when the winds will stop\nAnd the breeze will cease to be breathing,\nLike the stillness in the wind before the hurricane begins,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the sea will split and the ships will hit\nAnd the sands on the shoreline will be shaking\nAnd the tide will sound and the waves will pound\nAnd the morning will be breaking.\n\nThe fishes will laugh as they swim out of the path\nAnd the seagulls, they'll be smiling\nAnd the rocks on the sand will proudly stand,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the words that are used for to get the ship confused\nWill not be understood as they're spoken\nFor the chains of the sea will have busted in the night\nAnd be buried on the bottom of the ocean.\n\nA song will lift as the mainsail shifts\nAnd the boat drifts onto the shoreline\nAnd the sun will respect every face on the deck,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the sands will roll out a carpet of gold\nFor your weary toes to be touching\nAnd the ship's wise men will remind you once again\nThat the whole, wide world is watching.\n\nOh, the foes will rise with the sleep still in their eyes\nAnd they'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreaming,\nBut they'll pinch themselves and squeal wnd they'll know that it's for real,\nThe hour when the ship comes in.\n\nAnd they'll raise their hands, saying, \"We'll meet all your demands\",\nBut we'll shout from the bow, \"Your days are numbered!\"\nAnd like Pharaoh's tribe they'll be drownded in the tide\nAnd like Goliath they'll be conquered."}
{"name": "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll\nWith a cane that he twirled 'round his diamond ring finger\nAt a Baltimore hotel society gathering\nAnd the cops was called in and his weapon took from him\nAs they rode him in custody down to the station\nAnd booked William Zantzinger for first-degree murder.\nBut you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nWilliam Zantzinger, who at twenty-four years\nOwns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres,\nWith rich, wealthy parents who provide and protect him\nAnd high office relations in the politics of Maryland,\nReacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders\nAnd swear-words and sneering and his tongue, it was snarling\nAnd, in a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking.\nBut you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nHattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen,\nShe was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children,\nWho carried the dishes and took out the garbage\nAnd never sat once at the head of the table\nAnd didn't even talk to the people at the table,\nWho just cleaned up all the food from the table\nAnd emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,\nGot killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane\nThat sailed through the air and came down through the room,\nDoomed and determined to destroy all the gentle,\nAnd she never done nothing to William Zantzinger.\nAnd you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nIn the courtroom of honor the judge pounded his gavel\nTo show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level\nAnd that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded\nAnd that even the nobles get properly handled\nOnce that the cops have chased after and caught 'em\nAnd that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,\nStared at the person who killed for no reason,\nWho just happened to be feeling that way without warning,\nAnd he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,\nAnd handed out strongly for penalty and repentance\nWilliam Zantzinger with a six-month sentence.\nAh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nBury the rag deep in your face for now's the time for your tears."}
{"name": "Restless Farewell", "album": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Oh, all the money that in my whole life I did spend,\nBe it mine right or wrongfully,\nI let it slip gladly to my friends\nTo tie up the time most forcefully.\nBut the bottles are done,\nWe've killed each one,\nAnd the table's full and overflowed,\nAnd the corner sign\nSays it's closing time\nSo I'll bid farewell and be down the road.\n\nOh, every girl that ever I've touched,\nI did not do it harmfully\nAnd every girl that ever I've hurt,\nI did not do it knowingly.\nBut, to remain as friends,\nYou need the time to make amends and stay behind\nAnd, since my feet are now fast\nAnd point away from the past,\nI'll bid farewell and be down the line.\n\nOh, every foe that ever I faced,\nThe cause was there before we came\nAnd every cause that ever I fought,\nI fought it full without regret or shame.\nBut the dark does die\nAs the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes\nMust meet the dawn\nAnd, if I see the day,\nI'd only have to stay,\nSo I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone.\n\nOh, every thought that's strung a knot in my mind,\nI might go insane if it couldn't be sprung,\nBut it's not to stand naked under unknowing eyes,\nIt's for myself and my friends my stories are sung.\nBut the time ain't tall,\nYet on time you depend, and no word is possessed\nBy no special friend\nAnd, though the line is cut,\nIt ain't quite the end.\nI'll just bid farewell till we meet again.\n\nOh, a false clock tries to tick out my time,\nTo disgrace, distract, and bother me,\nAnd the dirt of gossip blows into my face\nAnd the dust of rumors covers me.\nBut, if the arrow is straight\nAnd the point is slick,\nIt can pierce through dust no matter how thick\nSo I'll make my stand\nAnd remain as I am\nAnd bid farewell and not give a damn."}
{"name": "All I Really Want to Do", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I ain't looking to compete with you,\nBeat or cheat or mistreat you,\nSimplify you, classify you,\nDeny, defy, or crucify you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nNo, and I ain't looking to fight with you,\nFrighten you or up-tighten you,\nDrag you down or drain you down,\nChain you down or bring you down.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI ain't looking to block you up,\nShock or knock or lock you up,\nAnalyze you, categorize you,\nFinalize you or advertise you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna straight-face you,\nRace or chase you, track or trace you,\nOr disgrace you or displace you,\nOr define you or confine you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna meet your kin,\nMake you spin or do you in,\nOr select you or dissect you,\nOr inspect you or reject you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna fake you out,\nTake or shake or forsake you out,\nI ain't looking for you to feel like me,\nSee like me or be like me.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you."}
{"name": "Black Crow Blues", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I woke in the morning, wandering, weary and worn out,\nI woke in the morning, wandering, weary and worn out,\nWishing my long-lost lover would walk to me, talk to me, tell me what it's all about.\n\nI was standing at the side road, listening to the billboard knock,\nStanding at the side road, listening to the billboard knock.\nWell, my wrist was empty, but my nerves were kicking, ticking like a clock.\n\nIf I got anything you need, babe, let me tell you in front,\nIf I got anything you need, babe, let me tell you in front:\nYou can come to me sometime, nighttime, daytime, any time you want.\n\nSometimes I'm thinking I'm too high to fall,\nSometimes I'm thinking I'm much too high to fall.\nOther times I'm thinking I'm so low I don't know if I can come up at all.\n\nBlack crows in the meadow, sleeping across a broad highway,\nBlack crows in the meadow, across a broad highway.\nThough it's funny, honey: I'm outta touch, don't feel much like a scarecrow today."}
{"name": "Spanish Harlem Incident", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem\nCannot hold you to its heat.\nYour temperature is too hot for taming.\nYour flaming feet are burning up the street.\nI am homeless, come and take me\nTo reach of your rattling drums.\nLet me know, babe, all about my fortune\nDown along my restless palms.\n\nGypsy gal, you got me swallowed.\nI have fallen far beneath\nYour pearly eyes, so fast and slashing,\nAnd your flashing diamond teeth.\nThe night is pitch black, come and make my\nPale face fit into place, oh, please!\nLet me know, babe - I'm nearly drowning -\nIf it's you my lifelines trace.\n\nI been wondering all about me\nEver since I seen you there.\nOn the cliffs of your wildcat charms I'm riding.\nI know I'm 'round you, but I don't know where.\nYou have slayed me, you have made me.\nI got to laugh halfways off my heels.\nI got to know, babe: will you surround me\nSo I can know if I'm really real?"}
{"name": "Chimes of Freedom", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Far between sundown's finish and midnight's broken toll,\nWe ducked inside the doorway as thunder went crashing,\nAs majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds,\nSeeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing,\nFlashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight,\nFlashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight\nAnd for each and every underdog soldier in the night,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.\n\nThrough the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched\nWith faces hidden as the walls were tightening,\nAs the echo of the wedding bells, before the blowing rain,\nDissolved into the bells of the lightning,\nTolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake,\nTolling for the luckless, the abandoned and forsaked,\nTolling for the outcast, burning constantly at stake,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.\n\nThrough the mad, mystic hammering of the wild, ripping hail,\nThe sky cracked its poems in naked wonder,\nThat the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze,\nLeaving only bells of lightning and its thunder,\nStriking for the gentle, striking for the kind,\nStriking for the guardians and protectors of the mind,\nAnd the poet and the painter, far behind his rightful time,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.\n\nIn the wild, cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales\nFor the disrobed, faceless forms of no position,\nTolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts,\nAll down in taken-for-granted situations,\nTolling for the deaf and blind, tolling for the mute,\nFor the mistreated, mate-less mother, the mis-titled prostitute,\nFor the misdemeanor outlaw, chained and cheated by pursuit,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.\n\nEven though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flared\nAnd the hypnotic, splattered mist was slowly lifting,\nElectric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones\nCondemned to drift or else be kept from drifting,\nTolling for the searching ones on their speechless, seeking trail,\nFor the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale,\nAnd for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.\n\nStarry-eyed and laughing, as I recall, when we were caught,\nTrapped by no track of hours for they hang suspended,\nAs we listened one last time and we watched with one last look,\nSpellbound and swallowed till the tolling ended,\nTolling for the aching, whose wounds cannot be nursed,\nFor the countless, confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse,\nAnd for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe,\nAnd we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Free No.10", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I'm just average, common too.\nI'm just like him, the same as you.\nI'm everybody's brother and son.\nI ain't different than anyone!\nAin't no use to talk to me.\nIt's just the same as talking to you.\n\nI was shadow-boxing early in the day.\nI figured I was ready for Cassius Clay.\nI said, \"Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay, here I come.\n26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine.\n5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Cassius Clay, you'd better run.\n99, 100, 101, 102, your ma won't even recognize you.\n14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen!\"\n\nWell, I don't know, but I've been told\nThe streets of heaven are lined with gold.\nI ask you how things could get much worse -\nIf the Russians happen to get up there first.\nWowee! Pretty scary!\n\nNow, I'm liberal, but to a degree.\nI want everybody to be free.\nBut, if you think I'll let Barry Goldwater\nMove in next door, marry my daughter,\nYou must think I'm crazy!\nI wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba.\n\nWell, I set my monkey on the log\nAnd ordered him to do the Dog.\nHe wagged his tail and shook his head\nAnd he went and did the Cat instead.\nHe's a weird monkey, very funky.\n\nI sat with my high-heeled sneakers on,\nWaiting to play tennis in the noonday sun.\nI had my white shorts rolled up past my waist\nAnd my wig-hat was falling in my face,\nBut they wouldn't let me on the tennis court.\n\nI got a woman, she's so mean,\nShe sticks my boots in the washing machine,\nSticks me with buckshot when I'm nude,\nPuts bubblegum in my food.\nShe's funny, wants my money, calls me \"honey\".\n\nNow, I got a friend who spends his life\nStabbing my picture with a bowie-knife,\nDreams of strangling me with a scarf,\nWhen my name comes up he pretends to barf.\nI've got a million friends!\n\nNow, they asked me to read a poem\nAt the sorority sisters' home.\nI got knocked down and my head was swimming -\nI wound up with the Dean of Women!\nYippee!\nI'm a poet, I know it.\nHope I don't blow it.\n\nI'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange\nSo I look like a walking mountain range\nAnd I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse,\nOut to the country club and the golf course.\nCarry the New York Times,\nShoot a few holes, blow their minds.\n\nNow, you're probably wondering by now\nJust what this song is all about.\nWhat's probably got you baffled more\nIs what this thing here is for.\nIt's nothing - it's something I learned over in England."}
{"name": "To Ramona", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Ramona, come closer, shut softly your watery eyes.\nThe pangs of your sadness will pass as your senses will rise\nFor the flowers of the city, though breath-like, get death-like sometimes\nAnd there's no use in trying to deal with the dying, though I cannot explain that in lines.\n\nYour cracked country lips I still wish to kiss as to be by the strength of your skin.\nYour magnetic movement still captures the minutes I'm in.\nBut it grieves my heart, love, to see you trying to be a part of a world that just don't exist.\nIt's all just a dream, babe, a vacuum, a scheme, babe, that sucks you into feeling like this.\n\nI can see that your head has been twisted and fed with worthless foam from the mouth.\nI can tell you are torn between staying and returning back to the South.\nYou've been fooled into thinking that the finishing end is at hand.\nYet there's no one to beat you, no one to defeat you 'cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.\n\nI've heard you say many times that you're better than no one and no one is better than you.\nIf you really believe that, you know you have nothing to win and nothing to lose.\nFrom fixtures and forces and friends your sorrow does stem,\nThat hype you and type you and making you feel that you gotta be just like them.\n\nI'd forever talk to you, but soon my words, they would turn into a meaningless ring\nFor deep in my heart I know there's no help I can bring.\nEverything passes, everything changes. Just do what you think you should do.\nAnd someday maybe - who knows, baby? - I'll come and be crying to you."}
{"name": "Motorpsycho Nightmare", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I pounded on a farmhouse looking for a place to stay.\nI was mighty, mighty tired. I had come a long, long way.\nI said, \"Hey, hey, in there, is there anybody home?\"\nI was standing on the steps feeling most alone\nWhen out comes a farmer - he musta thought that I was nuts.\nHe immediately looked at me and stuck a gun into my guts.\n\nI fell down to my bended knees,\nSaying, \"I dig farmers. Don't shoot me please!\"\nHe cocked his rifle and began to shout,\n\"Are you that traveling salesman that I have heard about?\"\nI said, \"No, no, no! I'm a doctor and it's true.\nI'm a clean-cut kid and I been to college, too.\"\n\nThen in comes his daughter, whose name was Rita.\nShe looked like she stepped out of The Dolce Vita.\nI immediately tried to cool it with her dad\nAnd told him what a nice, pretty farm he had.\nHe said, \"What do doctors know about farms, pray tell?\"\nI said, \"I was born at the bottom of a wishing well.\"\n\nWell, by the dirt 'neath my nails I guess he knew I wouldn't lie.\nHe said, \"I guess you're tired.\" He said it kinda sly.\nI said, \"Yes, ten thousand miles today I drove.\"\nHe said, \"I got a bed for you underneath the stove.\nJust one condition, you can go to sleep right now:\nThat you don't touch my daughter and in the morning milk the cows.\"\n\nI was sleeping like a rat when I heard something jerking.\nThere stood Rita, looking just like Tony Perkins.\nShe said, \"Would you like to take a shower? I'll show you up to the door.\"\nI said, \"Oh, no, no! I've been through this movie before!\"\nI knew I had to split, but I did not know how\nWhen she said, \"Would you like to take that shower now?\"\n\nWell, I couldn't leave unless the old man chased me out\n'Cause I'd already promised that I'd milk his cows.\nI had to say something to strike him very weird\nSo I yelled, \"I like Fidel Castro and his beard!\"\nRita looked offended, but she got out of the way\nAs he came charging down the stairs, saying, \"What's that I heard you say?\"\n\nI said, \"I like Fidel Castro. I think you heard me right.\"\nAnd I ducked as he swung at me with all his might.\nRita mumbled something 'bout her mother on the hill.\nAs his fist, it hit the icebox, he said he's gonna kill\nMe if I don't get out the door in two seconds flat,\n\"You unpatriotic, rotten doctor, Commie rat!\"\n\nWell, he threw a Reader's Digest at my head and I did run.\nI did a somersault as I seen him get his gun\nAnd crashed through the window at a hundred miles an hour\nAnd landed fully blast in his garden flowers.\nRita said \"Come back!\" and he started to load.\nThe sun was coming up and I was running down the road.\n\nWell, I don't figure I'll be back there for a spell\nEven though Rita moved away and got a job at a motel.\nHe still waits for me, constant on the sly.\nHe wants to turn me in to the F.B.I.\nMe, I romp and stomp, thankful as I romp.\nWithout freedom of speech, I might be in the swamp."}
{"name": "My Back Pages", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Crimson flames tied through my ears,\nRolling, high-and-mighty traps\nPounced with fire on flaming roads,\nUsing ideas as my maps.\n\"We'll meet on edges soon,\" said I,\nProud 'neath heated brow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nHalf-wracked prejudice leaped forth.\n\"Rip down all hate!\" I screamed.\nLies that life is black-and-white\nSpoke from my skull, I dreamed,\nRomantic facts of musketeers\nFoundationed deep somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nGirls' faces formed the forward path\nFrom phony jealousy\nTo memorizing politics\nOf ancient history,\nFlung down by corpse evangelists,\nUnthought of, though, somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nA self-ordained professor's tongue,\nToo serious to fool,\nSpouted out that liberty\nIs just equality in school.\n\"Equality\". I spoke the word\nAs if a wedding vow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nIn a soldier's stance I aimed my hand\nAt the mongrel dogs who teach,\nFearing not I'd become my enemy\nIn the instant that I preach,\nMy existence led by confusion boats,\nMutiny from stern to bow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nYes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats,\nToo noble to neglect,\nDeceived me into thinking\nI had something to protect.\nGood and bad, I define these terms\nQuite clear. no doubt, somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now."}
{"name": "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I can't understand,\nShe let go of my hand\nAnd left me here facing the wall.\nI'd sure like to know\nWhy she did go,\nBut I can't get close to her at all.\nThough we kissed through the wild, blazing nighttime,\nShe said she would never forget,\nBut now morning is clear,\nIt's like I ain't here,\nShe acts like we never met.\n\nIt's all new to me\nLike some mystery,\nIt could even be like a myth,\nBut it's hard to think on\nThat she's the same one\nThat last night I was with.\nFrom darkness dreams are deserted --\nAm I still dreaming yet?\nI wish she'd unlock\nHer voice once and talk\n'Steada acting like we never met.\n\nIf she ain't feeling well,\nThen why don't she tell\n'Steada turning her back to my face?\nWithout any doubt\nShe seems too far out\nFor me to return to or chase.\nAnd her skirt, it swayed as the guitar played,\nHer mouth was watery and wet,\nBut now something has changed\nFor she ain't the same,\nShe just acts like we never have met.\n\nIf I didn't have to guess,\nI'd gladly confess\nTo anything I mighta tried.\nIf I was with her too long\nOr have done something wrong,\nI'd wish she'd tell me what it is, I'll run and hide.\nThough the night ran swirling and whirling,\nI remember her whispering yet.\nBut evidently she don't,\nEvidently she won't.\nShe just acts like we never have met.\n\nI'm leaving today,\nI'll be on my way,\nOf this I can't say very much,\nBut, if you want me to,\nI can be just like you\nAnd pretend that we never have touched,\nAnd, if anybody asks me,\n\"Is it easy to forget?\"\nI'll say, \"It's easily done,\nYou just pick anyone\nAnd pretend that you never have met.\""}
{"name": "Ballad in Plain D", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "I once loved a girl. Her skin, it was bronze.\nWith the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn.\nI courted her proudly, but now she is gone,\nGone as the season she's taken.\n\nIn a young summer's youth, I stole her away\nFrom her mother and sister, though close did they stay.\nEach one of them suffering from the failures of their day,\nWith strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.\n\nOf the two sisters, I loved the young.\nWith sensitive instincts, she was the creative one.\nThe constant scapegoat, she was easily undone\nBy the jealousy of others around her.\n\nFor her parasite sister I had no respect.\nBound by her boredom, her pride to protect,\nCountless visions of the other she'd reflect\nAs a crutch for her scenes and her society.\n\nMyself, for what I did I cannot be excused.\nThe changes I was going through can't even be used\nFor the lies that I told her in hope not to lose\nThe could-be dream lover of my lifetime.\n\nWith unseen consciousness I possessed in my grip\nA magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped,\nNoticing not that I'd already slipped\nTo the sin of love's false security.\n\nFrom silhouetted anger to manufactured peace,\nAnswers of emptiness, voice vacancies\nTill the tombstones of damage read no questions but, \"Please,\nWhat's wrong? What's exactly the matter?\"\n\nAnd so it did happen like it could have been foreseen,\nThe timeless explosion of fantasy's dream.\nAt the peak of the night the king and the queen\nTumbled all down into pieces.\n\nThe tragic figure. her sister did shout,\n\"Leave her alone! Goddamn you, get out!\"\nAnd I, in my armor, turning about\nAnd nailing her in the ruins of her pettiness.\n\nBeneath a bare light-bulb the plaster did pound,\nHer sister and I in a screaming battleground.\nAnd she in between, the victim of sound,\nSoon shattered as a child to the shadows.\n\nAll is gone, all is gone! Admit it, take flight!\nI gagged in contradiction, tears blinding my sight.\nMy mind, it was mangled. I ran into the night,\nLeaving all of love's ashes behind me.\n\nThe wind knocks my window, the room, it is wet.\nThe words to say \"I'm sorry\" I haven't found yet.\nI think of her often and hope whoever she's met\nWill be fully aware of how precious she is.\n\nAh, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,\n\"How good-how good does it feel to be free?\"\nAnd I answer them most mysteriously,\n\"Are birds free from the chains of the sky-way?\""}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "Another Side of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "1964", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho's never weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo lightly from the ledge, babe,\nGo lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI will only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back in the night,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho'll pick you up each time you fall,\nTo gather flowers constantly,\nAnd to come each time you call,\nA lover for your life and nothing more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Johnny's in the basement\nMixing up the medicine,\nI'm on the pavement\nThinking about the government,\nThe man in the trench-coat,\nBadge out, laid off,\nSays he's got a bad cough,\nWants to get it paid off.\nLook out, kid,\nIt's something you did\nGod knows when,\nBut you're doing it again,\nYou better duck down the alleyway,\nLooking for a new friend.\nThe man in the coon-skin cap\nIn the pigpen\nWants eleven dollar bills,\nYou only got ten.\n\nMaggie comes fleet-foot,\nFace full of black soot,\nTalking that the heat put\nPlants in the bed, but\nThe phone's tapped anyway,\nMaggie says that many say\nThey must bust in early May,\nOrders from the D.A.\nLook out, kid,\nDon't matter what you did,\nDon't walk on your tip-toes,\nDon't try No Doz,\nBetter stay away from those\nThat carry 'round a fire-hose,\nKeep a clean nose,\nWatch the plain-clothes,\nYou don't need a weatherman\nTo know which way the wind blows.\n\nAh, get sick, get well,\nHang around the ink-well,\nRing bell, hard to tell\nIf anything is gonna sell,\nTry hard, get barred,\nGet back, write Braille,\nGet jailed, jump bail,\nJoin the army if you fail.\nLook out, kid,\nYou're gonna get hit\nBy losers, cheaters,\nSix-time users\nHanging 'round the theaters,\nGirl by the whirlpool's\nLooking for a new fool,\nDon't follow leaders,\nWatch the parking meters.\n\nOh, get born, keep warm,\nShort pants, romance, learn to dance,\nGet dressed, get blessed,\nTry to be a success,\nPlease her, please him, buy gifts,\nDon't steal, don't lift,\nTwenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.\nLook out, kid,\nThey keep it all hid,\nBetter jump down a manhole,\nLight yourself a candle,\nDon't wear sandals\nAnd try to avoid the scandals.\nDon't wanna be a bum,\nYou better chew gum,\nThe pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles."}
{"name": "She Belongs to Me", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe can take the dark out of the nighttime and paint the daytime black.\n\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nBut you will wind up peeking through her keyhole down upon your knees.\n\nShe never stumbles, she's got no place to fall,\nShe never stumbles, she's got no place to fall,\nShe's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.\n\nShe wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.\n\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nFor Halloween buy her a trumpet and for Christmas give her a drum."}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain.\nI got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane.\nIt's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nWell, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime.\nHe asks you with a grin if you're having a good time;\nThen he fines you every time you slam the door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nWell, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks,\nHis bedroom window, it is made out of bricks.\nThe National Guard stands around his door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nWell, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody says she's the brains behind pa.\nShe's 68, but she says she's 54.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I try my best to be just like I am,\nBut everybody wants you to be just like them.\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave and I just get bored.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more."}
{"name": "Love Minus Zero/No Limit", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "My love, she speaks like silence,\nWithout ideals or violence,\nShe doesn't have to say she's faithful,\nYet she's true like ice, like fire.\nPeople carry roses\nAnd make promises by the hours,\nMy love, she laughs like the flowers,\nValentines can't buy her.\n\nIn the dime-stores and bus-stations\nPeople talk of situations,\nRead books, repeat quotations,\nDraw conclusions on the wall.\nSome speak of the future,\nMy love, she speaks softly,\nShe knows there's no success like failure\nAnd that failure's no success at all.\n\nThe cloak-and-dagger dangles,\nMadams light the candles,\nIn ceremonies of the horsemen\nEven the pawn must hold a grudge.\nStatues made of matchsticks\nCrumble into one another,\nMy love winks, she does not bother,\nShe knows too much to argue or to judge.\n\nThe bridge at midnight trembles,\nThe country doctor rambles,\nBankers' nieces seek perfection,\nExpecting all the gifts that wise men bring.\nThe wind howls like a hammer\nAnd the night blows rainy,\nMy love, she's like some raven\nAt my window with a broken wing."}
{"name": "Outlaw Blues", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Ain't it hard to stumble and land in some funny lagoon?\nAin't it hard to stumble and land in some muddy lagoon?\n'Specially when it's nine below zero and three o'clock in the afternoon.\n\nAin't gonna hang no picture, ain't gonna hang no picture-frame.\nAin't gonna hang no picture or hang no picture-frame.\nWell, I might look like Robert Ford, but I feel just like Jesse James.\n\nWell, I wish I was on some Australian mountain range.\nOh, I wish I was on some Australian mountain range.\nI got no reason to be there, but I imagine it would be some kinda change.\n\nI got my dark sunglasses, I got for good luck my black tooth.\nI got my dark sunglasses, I'm carrying for good luck my black tooth.\nDon't ask me nothing about nothing - I just might tell you the truth.\n\nI got a woman in Jackson - oh, I ain't gonna say her name.\nI got a woman in Jackson - I ain't gonna say her name.\nShe's a brown-skin woman, but I-I love her just the same."}
{"name": "On the Road Again", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Well, I wake up in the morning, there's frogs inside my socks,\nYour mama, she's hiding inside the icebox,\nYour daddy walks in wearing a Napoleon Bonaparte mask.\nAnd you ask why I don't live here! Honey, do you have to ask?\n\nWell, I go to pet your monkey, I get a face full of claws.\nI said, \"Who's in the fireplace?\" And you tell me Santa Claus.\nThe milkman comes in, he's wearing a derby hat.\nAnd you ask why I don't live here! Honey, how come you have to ask me that?\n\nWell, I asked for something to eat - I'm hungry as a hog,\nSo I get brown rice, seaweed, and a dirty hot dog.\nI've got a hole where my stomach disappeared.\nThen you ask why I don't live here! Honey, I gotta think you're really weird!\n\nYour grandpa's cane, it turns into a sword,\nYour grandma prays to pictures that are pasted on a board.\nEverything inside my pockets your uncle steals.\nAnd you ask why I don't live here! Honey, I can't believe that you're for real!\n\nWell, there's fistfights in the kitchen, they're enough to make me cry.\nThen the mailman comes in - even he's gotta take a side.\nEven the butler, he's got something to prove.\nAnd you ask why I don't live here! Honey, how come you don't move?"}
{"name": "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "I was riding on the Mayflower when I thought I spied some land--\n\nStart over!\n\nI was riding on the Mayflower when I thought I spied some land.\nI yelled for Captain Arab, I'll have you understand,\nWho came running to the deck, said, \"Boys, forget the whale.\nLook on over yonder. Cut the engines, change the sail,\nHaul on the bowline.\" We sang that melody\nLike all tough sailors do when they're far away at sea.\n\n\"I think I'll call it America,\" I said as we hit land.\nI took a deep breath. I fell down, I could not stand.\nCaptain Arab, he started writing up some deeds.\nHe said, \"Let's set up a fort and start buying the place with beads.\"\nJust then this cop comes down the street, crazy as a loon/\nHe throws us all in jail for carrying harpoons.\n\nOh, me, I busted out - don't even ask me how.\nI went to get some help. I walked by a Guernsey cow,\nWho directed me down to the Bowery slums,\nWhere people carried signs around saying \"Ban the bums\".\nI jumped right into line, saying, \"I hope that I'm not late,\"\nWhen I realized I hadn't eaten for five days straight.\n\nI went into a restaurant looking for the cook.\nI told 'em I was the editor of a famous etiquette book.\nThe waitress, he was handsome. He wore a powder-blue cape.\nI ordered some Suzette. I said, \"Could you please make that crepe?\"\nJust then the whole kitchen exploded from boiling fat.\nFood was flying everywhere - I left without my hat.\n\nNow, I didn't mean to be nosy, but I went into a bank\nTo get some bail for Arab and all the boys back in the tank.\nThey asked me for some collateral and I pulled down my pants.\nThey threw me in the alley when up comes this girl from France,\nWho invited me to her house. I went, but she had a friend\nWho knocked me out and robbed my boots, and I was on the street again.\n\nWell, I rapped upon a house with the U.S. flag upon display.\nI said, \"Could you help me out? I got some friends down the way.\"\nThe man says, \"Get out of here! I'll tear you limb from limb!\"\nI said, \"You know, they refused Jesus too.\" He said, \"You're not Him!\nGet out of here before I break your bone! I ain't your pop!\"\nI decided to have him arrested and I went looking for a cop.\n\nI ran right outside, I hopped inside a cab,\nI went out the other door, this Englishman said \"Fab!\"\nAs he saw me leap a hot-dog stand and a chariot that stood\nParked across from a building advertising brotherhood.\nI ran right through the front door like a hobo-sailor does,\nBut it was just a funeral parlor and the man asked me who I was.\n\nI repeated that my friends were all in jail with a sigh.\nHe gave me his card, he said, \"Call me if they die.\"\nI shook his hand and said goodbye, ran out to the street\nWhen a bowling ball came down the road and knocked me off my feet.\nA pay-phone was ringing, it just about blew my mind.\nWhen I picked it up and said hello, this foot came through the line.\n\nWell, by this time I was fed up at trying to make a stab\nAt bringing back any help for my friends and Captain Arab.\nI decided to flip a coin, like either heads or tails\nWould let me know if I should go back to ship or back to jail.\nSo, I hocked my sailor suit and I got a coin to flip.\nIt came up tails, it rhymed with sail, so I made it back to the ship.\n\nWell, I got back, took the parking ticket off the mast.\nI was ripping it to shreds when this coast-guard boat went past.\nThey asked me my name and I said Captain Kidd.\nThey believed me, but they wanted to know what exactly that I did.\nI said for the Pope of Eruke I was employed.\nThey let me go right away - they were very paranoid.\n\nWell, the last I heard of Arab, he was stuck on a whale\nThat was married to the deputy sheriff of the jail.\nBut the funniest thing was, when I was leaving the bay,\nI saw three ships sailing, they were all heading my way.\nI asked the captain what his name was and how come he didn't drive a truck.\nHe said his name was Columbus. I just said \"Good luck\"."}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Gates of Eden", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Of war and peace the truth just twists.\nIts curfew-gull, it glides.\nUpon four-legged forest-clouds\nThe cowboy angel rides\nWith his candle lit into the sun,\nThough its glow is waxed in black -\nAll except when 'neath the trees of Eden.\n\nThe lamp-post stands with folded arms,\nIts iron claws attached\nTo curbs 'neath holes where babies wail,\nThough its shadow's metal badge\nAll and all can only fall\nWith a crashing, but meaningless blow.\nNo sound ever comes from the gates of Eden.\n\nThe savage soldier sticks his head in sand\nAnd then complains\nUnto the shoe-less hunter who's gone deaf,\nBut still remains\nUpon the beach, where hound dogs bay\nAt ships with tattooed sails,\nHeading for the gates of Eden.\n\nWith a time-rusted compass blade,\nAladdin and his lamp\nSits with Utopian hermit-monks\nSidesaddle on the Golden Calf.\nAnd, on their promises of paradise,\nYou will not hear a laugh -\nAll except inside the gates of Eden.\n\nRelationships of ownership,\nThey whisper in the wings\nTo those condemned to act accordingly\nAnd wait for succeeding kings.\nAnd I try to harmonize with songs\nThe lonesome sparrow sings.\nThere are no kings inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe motorcycle, Black Madonna,\nTwo-wheeled, gypsy queen\nAnd her silver-studded phantom cause\nThe gray-flannel dwarf to scream\nAs he weeps to wicked birds of prey,\nWho pick up on his breadcrumb sins.\nAnd there are no sins inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe kingdoms of experience,\nIn the precious winds they rot\nWhile paupers change possessions,\nEach one wishing for what the other has got.\nAnd the princess and the prince discuss\nWhat's real and what is not.\nIt doesn't matter inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe foreign sun, it squints upon\nA bed that is never mine\nAs friends and other strangers\nFrom their fates try to resign,\nLeaving men wholly, totally free\nTo do anything they wish to do, but die.\nAnd there are no trials inside the gates of Eden.\n\nAt dawn my lover comes to me\nAnd tells me of her dreams\nWith no attempts to shovel the glimpse\nInto the ditch of what each one means.\nAt times I think there are no words\nBut these to tell what's true.\nAnd there are no truths outside the gates of Eden."}
{"name": "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Darkness at the break of noon\nShadows even the silver spoon,\nThe handmade blade, the child's balloon,\nEclipses both the sun and moon.\nTo understand, you know too soon there's no sense in trying.\n\nPointed threats, they bluff with scorn,\nSuicide remarks are torn\nFrom the fool's gold mouthpiece, the hollow horn\nPlays wasted words, proves to warn\nThat he not busy being born is busy dying.\n\nTemptation's page flies out the door,\nYou follow, find yourself at war,\nWatch waterfalls of pity roar,\nYou feel to moan, but, unlike before,\nYou discover that you'd just be one more person crying.\n\nSo, don't fear if you hear\nA foreign sound to your ear.\nIt's alright, ma, I'm only sighing.\n\nAs some warn victory, some downfall,\nPrivate reasons, great or small,\nCan be seen in the eyes of those that call\nTo make all that should be killed to crawl\nWhile others say, \"Don't hate nothing at all except hatred.\"\n\nDisillusioned words like bullets bark\nAs human gods aim for their mark,\nMake everything from toy guns that spark\nTo flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark.\nIt's easy to see without looking too far that not much is really sacred.\n\nWhile preachers preach of evil fates,\nTeachers teach that knowledge waits,\nCan lead to hundred-dollar plates,\nGoodness hides behind its gates,\nBut even the president of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked.\n\nAnd, though the rules of the road have been lodged,\nIt's only people's games that you got to dodge.\nAnd it's alright, ma, I can make it.\n\nAdvertising signs that con\nYou into thinking you're the one\nThat can do what's never been done,\nThat can win what's never been won.\nMeantime, life outside goes on all around you.\n\nYou lose yourself, you reappear,\nYou suddenly find you got nothing to fear,\nAlone you stand with nobody near\nWhen a trembling, distant voice, unclear,\nStartles your sleeping ears to hear that somebody thinks they really found you.\n\nA question in your nerves is lit,\nYet you know there is no answer fit\nTo satisfy, ensure you not to quit,\nTo keep it in your mind and not forget\nThat it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to.\n\nBut, though the masters make the rules\nFor the wise men and the fools,\nI got nothing, ma, to live up to.\n\nFor them that must obey authority\nThat they do not respect in any degree,\nWho despise their jobs, their destinies,\nSpeak jealously of them that are free,\nDo what they do just to be nothing more than something they invest in.\n\nWhile some, on principles baptized\nTo strict party-platform ties,\nSocial clubs in drag disguise,\nOutsiders they can freely criticize,\nTell nothing except who to idolize, and say, \"God bless him.\"\n\nWhile one who sings with his tongue on fire\nGargles in the rat-race choir,\nBent out of shape from society's pliers,\nCares not to come up any higher,\nBut rather get you down in the hole that he's in.\n\nBut, I mean no harm nor put fault\nOn anyone that lives in a vault.\nBut it's alright, ma, if I can't please him.\n\nOld-lady judges watch people in pairs,\nLimited in sex they dare\nTo push fake morals, insult, and stare\nWhile money doesn't talk, it swears,\nObscenity - who really cares? - propaganda all is phony.\n\nWhile them that defend what they cannot see\nWith a killer's pride, security,\nIt blows their minds most bitterly,\nFor them that think death's honesty\nWon't fall upon them naturally, life sometimes must get lonely.\n\nMy eyes collide head-on with stuffed\nGraveyards, false goals, I scuff\nAt pettiness, which plays so rough,\nWalk upside-down inside handcuffs,\nKick my legs to crash it off,\nSay, \"OK, I've had enough, what else can you show me?\"\n\nAnd, if my thought-dreams could be seen,\nThey'd probably put my head in a guillotine.\nBut it's alright, ma, it's life and life only."}
{"name": "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", "album": "Bringing It All Back Home", "album_year": "1965", "text": "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last,\nBut whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,\nYonder stands your orphan with his gun,\nCrying like a fire in the sun.\nLook out, the saints are coming through\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nThe highway is for gamblers, better use your sense,\nTake what you have gathered from coincidence,\nThe empty-handed painter from your streets\nIs drawing crazy patterns on your sheets,\nThe sky too is folding under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nAll your seasick sailors, they're all rowing home,\nYour own empty-handed army is all going home,\nYour lover, who just walked out your door,\nHas taken all his blankets from the floor,\nThe carpet too is moving under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nLeave your stepping-stones behind, there's something that calls for you,\nForget the dead you've left, they will not follow you,\nThe vagabond who's rapping at your door\nIs standing in the clothes that you once wore.\nStrike another match, go start anew,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud.\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nA complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he took from you everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo have--be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, princess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Tombstone Blues", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "The sweet, pretty things are in bed now of course,\nThe city fathers, they're trying to endorse\nThe reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse,\nBut the town has no need to be nervous.\n\nThe ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits\nTo Jezebel, the nun, she violently knits\nA bald wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits\nAt the head of the Chamber of Commerce.\n\nMama's in a factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe hysterical bride in the penny arcade,\nScreaming, she moans, \"I have just been made!\"\nThen sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the shade\nAnd says, \"My advice is to not let the boys in.\"\n\nNow, the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside,\nHe walks with a swagger and he says to the bride,\n\"Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride,\nYou will not die, it's not poison!\"\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nWell, John the Baptist, after torturing a thief,\nLooks up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief,\nSaying, \"Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief,\nIs there a hole for me to get sick in?\"\n\nThe Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly,\nSaying, \"Death to all those who would whimper and cry!\"\nAnd, dropping a barbell, he points to the sky\nSaying, \"The sun's not yellow, it's chicken!\"\n\nMama's in the factory. she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe king of the Philistines, his soldiers to save,\nPuts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves,\nPuts the pied-pipers in prison and fattens the slaves,\nThen sends 'em out to the jungle.\n\nGypsy Davy with a blowtorch, he burns out their camps,\nWith his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps\nWith a fantastic collection of stamps\nTo win friends and influence his uncle.\n\nMama's in a factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in trouble with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe geometry of innocent flesh on the bone\nCauses Galileo's math book to get thrown\nAt Delilah, who's sitting worthlessly alone,\nBut the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.\n\nI wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill,\nI would set him in chains at the top of the hill,\nThen send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille.\nHe could die happily ever after.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nWhere Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll,\nTuba players now rehearse around the flagpole\nAnd the National Bank at a profit sells road-maps for the soul\nTo the old folks' home and the college.\n\nI wish I could write you a melody so plain\nThat could hold you, dear lady, from going insane,\nThat could ease you and cool you and cease the pain\nOf your useless and pointless knowledge.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues."}
{"name": "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Well, I ride on a mail-train, baby, can't buy a thrill,\nWell, I've been up all night leaning on the windowsill.\nWell, if I die on top of the hill\nAnd if I don't make it, you know my baby will.\n\nDon't the moon look good, mama, shining through the trees?\nDon't the brakeman look good, mama, flagging down the Double E?\nDon't the sun look good going down over the sea?\nBut, don't my gal look fine when she's coming after me?\n\nNow, the wintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost,\nI went to tell everybody, but I could not get across.\nWell, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss.\nDon't say I never warned you when your train gets lost."}
{"name": "From a Buick 6", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "I got this graveyard woman, you know, she keeps my kids,\nBut my soulful mama, you know, she keeps me hid.\nShe's a junkyard angel and she always gives me bread.\nWell, if I fall down dying, you know, she bound to put a blanket on my bed.\n\nWell, when the pipeline gets broken and I'm lost on the river bridge,\nI'm all cracked up on the highway and in the water's edge,\nAgain she comes down the thruway ready to sew me up with the thread.\nWell, if I fall down dying, you know, she bound to put a blanket on my bed.\n\nWell, she don't make me nervous, she don't talk too much.\nShe walks like Bo Diddley and she don't need no crutch.\nShe keeps this .410 all loaded with lead.\nWell, if I fall down dying, you know, she bound to put a blanket on my bed."}
{"name": "Ballad of a Thin Man", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand,\nYou see somebody naked and you, you say, \"Who is that man?\"\nYou try so hard, but you don't understand\nJust what you will say when you get home\nBecause something is happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou raise up your head and you ask, \"Is this where it is?\"\nAnd somebody points to you and says, \"It's his.\"\nAnd you say, \"What's mine?\" And somebody else says, \"Where what is?\"\nAnd you say, \"Oh, my God, am I here all alone?\"\nBut something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek,\nWho immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak\nAnd says, \"How does it feel to be such a freak?\"\nAnd you say \"Impossible!\" as he hands you a bone.\nAnd something is happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou have many contacts among the lumberjacks\nTo get you facts when someone attacks your imagination.\nBut nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you\nTo all give a check to tax-deductible charity organizations.\n\nOh, you been with the professors and they've all liked your looks,\nWith great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks,\nYou been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books,\nYou're very well-read, it's well-known.\nBut something is happening here and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nWell, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels,\nHe crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels\nAnd without further notice he asks you how it feels\nAnd he says, \"Here is your throat back. Thanks for the loan.\"\nAnd you know something is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nNow, you see this one-eyed midget shouting the word \"now\"\nAnd you say, \"For what reason?\" And he says, \"How?\"\nAnd you say, \"What does this mean?\" And he screams back, \"You're a cow!\nGive me some milk or else go home!\"\nAnd you know something's happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nWell, you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown,\nYou put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground.\nThere oughtta be a law against you coming around,\nYou should be made to wear earphones\n'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"}
{"name": "Queen Jane Approximately", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "When your mother sends back all your invitations\nAnd your father, to your sister he explains\nThat you're tired of yourself and all of your creations,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nNow, when all of the flower-ladies want back what they have lent you\nAnd the smell of their roses does not remain\nAnd all of your children start to resent you,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nNow, when all the clowns that you have commissioned\nHave died in battle or in vain\nAnd you're sick of all this repetition,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nOh, when all of your advisers heave their plastic\nAt your feet to convince you of your pain,\nTrying to prove that your conclusions should be more drastic,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nNow, when all of the bandits that you turned your other cheek to\nAll lay down their bandanas and complain\nAnd you want somebody you don't have to speak to,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nOh, won't you come see me, Queen Jane?"}
{"name": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "Oh, God said to Abraham, \"Kill me a son.\"\nAbe said, \"Man, you must be putting me on.\"\nGod said, \"No.\" Abe said, \"What?\"\nGod said, \"You can do what you want, Abe, but\nThe next time you see me coming you better run.\"\nWell, Abe said, \"Where you want this killing done?\"\nGod said, \"Oh, down Highway 61.\"\n\nWell, Georgia Sam, he had a bloody nose,\nWelfare Department, they wouldn't give him no clothes.\nHe asked poor Howard, \"Where can I go?\"\nHoward said, \"There's only one place I know.\"\nSam said, \"Tell me quick, man! I got to run.\"\nOh, Howard just pointed with his gun\nAnd said, \"That way down Highway 61.\"\n\nWell, Mack the Finger said to Louis the King,\n\"I got forty red, white, and blue shoestrings\nAnd a thousand telephones that don't ring.\nDo you know where I can get rid of these things?\"\nAnd Louis the King said, \"Let me think for a minute, son.\"\nThen he said, \"Yes, I think it can be easily done.\nJust take everything down to Highway 61.\"\n\nNow, the fifth daughter on the twelfth night\nTold the first father that things weren't right.\n\"My complexion,\" she says, \"is much too white.\"\nHe said, \"Come here and step into the light.\"\nHe says, \"Hmm, you're right. Let me tell the second mother this has been done.\"\nBut the second mother was with the seventh son\nAnd they were both out on Highway 61.\n\nNow, the roving gambler, he was very bored\nTrying to create a next world war.\nHe found a promoter, who nearly fell off the floor.\nHe said, \"I never engaged in this kind of thing before,\nBut, yes, I think it can be very easily done.\nWe'll just put some bleachers out in the sun\nAnd have it on Highway 61.\""}
{"name": "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter-time too\nAnd your gravity fails and negativity don't pull you through,\nDon't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue,\nThey got some hungry women there and they really make a mess outta you.\n\nNow, if you see Saint Annie, please tell her \"Thanks a lot\",\nI cannot move, my fingers are all in a knot.\nI don't have the strength to get up and take another shot\nAnd my best friend, my doctor, won't even say what it is I've got.\n\nSweet Melinda, the peasants call her the \"Goddess of Gloom\",\nShe speaks good English and she invites you up into her room\nAnd you're so kind and careful not to go to her too soon\nAs she takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon.\n\nUp on Housing Project Hill it's either fortune or fame,\nYou must pick one or the other though neither of them are to be what they claim.\nIf you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came\nBecause the cops don't need you and, man, they expect the same.\n\nNow, all the authorities, they just stand around and boast\nHow they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into leaving his post\nAnd picking up Angel, who just arrived here from the coast,\nWho looked so fine at first, but left looking just like a ghost.\n\nI started out on burgundy, but soon hit the harder stuff,\nEverybody said they'd stand behind me when the game got rough,\nBut the joke was on me, there was nobody even there to bluff.\nI'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough."}
{"name": "Desolation Row", "album": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album_year": "1965", "text": "They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown,\nThe beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town.\nHere comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance,\nOne hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants.\nAnd the riot squad, they're restless, they need somewhere to go\nAs Lady and I look out tonight from Desolation Row.\n\nCinderella, she seems so easy. \"It takes one to know one,\" she smiles\nAnd puts her hands in her back pocket Bette Davis-style.\nAnd in comes Romeo, he's moaning, \"You belong to me, I believe.\"\nAnd someone says, \"You're in the wrong place, my friend, you'd better leave.\"\nAnd the only sound that's left after the ambulances go\nIs Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row.\n\nNow, the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide,\nThe fortune-telling lady has even taken all her things inside.\nAll except for Cain and Abel and the Hunchback of Notre Dame,\nEverybody is making love or else expecting rain.\nAnd the Good Samaritan, he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show.\nHe's going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row.\n\nOphelia, she's 'neath the window, for her I feel so afraid,\nOn her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid.\nTo her death is quite romantic, she wears an iron vest,\nHer profession's her religion, her sin is her lifelessness.\nAnd, though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow,\nShe spends her time peeking into Desolation Row.\n\nEinstein, disguised as Robin Hood, with his memories in a trunk,\nPassed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk.\nNow, he looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette,\nThen he went off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet.\nYou would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago\nFor playing the electric violin on Desolation Row.\n\nDr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cup,\nBut all his sexless patients, they are trying to blow it up.\nNow, his nurse, some local loser, she's in charge of the cyanide hole\nAnd she also keeps the cards that read \"Have Mercy on His Soul\".\nThey all play on the penny whistle, you can hear them blow\nIf you lean your head out far enough from Desolation Row.\n\nAcross the street they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready for the feast,\nThe Phantom of the Opera in a perfect image of a priest.\nThey're spoon-feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured,\nThen they'll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words.\nAnd the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls, \"Get outta here if you don't know\nCasanova is just being punished for going to Desolation Row!\"\n\nAt midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew\nCome out and round up everyone that knows more than they do.\nThen they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine\nIs strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene\nIs brought down from the castles by insurance men who go\nCheck to see that nobody is escaping to Desolation Row.\n\nPraise be to Nero's Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn,\nEverybody's shouting, \"Which side are you on?\"\nAnd Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain's tower\nWhile Calypso-singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers\nBetween the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow\nAnd nobody has to think too much about Desolation Row.\n\nYes, I received your letter yesterday about the time the door-knob broke.\nWhen you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke?\nAll these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame,\nI had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name.\nRight now I can't read too good, don't send me no more letters, no!\nNot unless you mail them from Desolation Row."}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Well, they'll stone you when you're trying to be so good,\nThey'll stone you just like they said they would,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to go home,\nThen they'll stone you when you're there all alone.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you're walking on the street,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to keep your seat,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking on the floor,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking to the door.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're at the breakfast table,\nThey'll stone you when you are young and able,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to make a buck,\nThey'll stone you and then they'll say, \"Good luck.\"\nYeah, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you and say that it's the end,\nThen they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your car,\nThey'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.\nYes, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\nAlright!\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you are all alone,\nThey'll stone you when you are walking home,\nThey'll stone you and then say, \"You are brave,\"\nThey'll stone you when you're set down in your grave.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "Pledging My Time", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Well, early in the morning till late at night\nI got a poison headache, but I feel alright.\nI'm pledging my time to you,\nHoping you'll come through too.\n\nWell, the hobo got to hide, but he came to me naturally.\nHe stole my baby and he wanted to steal me.\nBut I'm pledging my time to you,\nHoping you'll come through too.\n\nWon't you come with me, baby? I'll take you where you wanna go.\nAnd, if it don't work out, you'll be the first to know.\nI'm pledging my time to you,\nHoping you'll come through too.\n\nWell, the room is so stuffy, I can hardly breathe.\nEverybody's gone but me and you and I can't be the last to leave.\nI'm pledging my time to you,\nHoping you'll come through too.\n\nWell, they sent for the ambulance and one was sent.\nSomebody got lucky, but it was an accident.\nI'm pledging my time to you,\nHoping you'll come through too."}
{"name": "Visions of Johanna", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?\nWe all sit here stranded though we're all doing our best to deny it\nAnd Louise holds a handful of rain tempting you to defy it.\nLights flicker from the opposite loft.\nIn this room the heat-pipes just cough,\nThe country music station plays soft,\nBut there's nothing-really nothing to turn off,\nJust Louise and her lover so entwined\nAnd these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.\n\nIn the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key-chain\nAnd the all-night girls, they whisper of escapades out on the D train,\nWe can hear the night watchman click his flashlight, ask himself if it's him or them that's insane.\nLouise, she's alright, she's just near.\nShe's delicate and seems like the mirror,\nBut she just makes it all too concise and too clear\nThat Johanna's not here.\nThe ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face\nWhere these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.\n\nNow, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously,\nHe brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerousl,.\nAnd, when bringing her name up, he speaks of a farewell kiss to me.\nHe's sure got a lot of gall\nTo be so useless and all,\nMuttering small talk at the wall\nWhile I'm in the hall.\nOh, how can I explain? It's so hard to get on.\nAnd these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn.\n\nInside the museums infinity goes up on trial,\nVoices echo, \"This is what salvation must be like after a while\",\nBut Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles.\nSee the primitive wallflower freeze\nWhen the jelly-faced women all sneeze.\nHear the one with the mustache say, \"Jeez,\nI can't find my knees.\"\nOh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule,\nBut these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.\n\nThe peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him,\nSaying, \"Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him.\"\nBut, like Louise always says, \"You can't look at much, can you, man?\" as she herself prepares for him.\nAnd Madonna, she still has not showed,\nWe see this empty cage now corrode\nWhere her cape of the stage once had flowed,\nThe fiddler, he now steps to the road,\nHe writes \"Everything's been returned which was owed\"\nOn the back of the fish truck that loads\nWhile my conscience explodes.\nThe harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain\nAnd these visions of Johanna are now all that remain."}
{"name": "One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "I didn't mean to treat you so bad.\nYou shouldn't take it so personal.\nI didn't mean to make you so sad.\nYou just happened to be there, that's all.\nWhen I saw you say goodbye to your friend and smile,\nI thought that it was well-understood\nThat you'd be coming back in a little while.\nI didn't know that you were saying goodbye for good.\nBut sooner or later one of us must know\nThat you just did what you're supposed to do.\nSooner or later one of us must know\nThat I really did try to get close to you.\n\nI couldn't see what you could show me.\nYour scarf, it kept your mouth well-hid.\nI couldn't see how you could know me,\nBut you said you knew me and I believed you did.\nWhen you whispered in my ear\nAnd asked me if I was leaving with you or her,\nI didn't realize just what I did hear,\nI didn't realize how young you were.\nBut sooner or later one of us must know\nThat you're just doing what you're supposed to do.\nSooner or later one of us must know\nThat I really did try to get close to you.\n\nI couldn't see when it started snowing.\nYour voice was all that I heard.\nI couldn't see where we were going,\nBut you said you knew and I took your word.\nAnd then you told me later as I apologized\nThat you were just kidding me, you weren't really from the farm.\nAnd I told you as you clawed out my eyes\nThat I never really meant to do you any harm.\nBut sooner or later one of us must know\nThat you just did what you're supposed to do.\nSooner or later one of us must know\nThat I really did try to get close to you."}
{"name": "I Want You", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "The guilty undertaker sighs, the lonesome organ-grinder cries,\nThe silver saxophones say I should refuse you.\nThe cracked bells and washed-out horns blow into my face with scorn,\nBut it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nThe drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep\nAnd the saviors, who are fast asleep, they wait for you.\nAnd I wait for them to interrupt me drinking from my broken cup\nAnd ask me to open up the gate for you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, all my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nBut all their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nWell, I return to the Queen of Spades and talk with my chambermaid,\nShe knows that she's not afraid to look at her.\nShe is good to me and there's nothing she doesn't see,\nShe knows where I'd like to be, but it doesn't matter.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, your dancing child with his Chinese suit, he spoke to me, I took his flute.\nNo, I wasn't very cute to him, was I?\nBut I did it because he lied, because he took you for a ride,\nAnd because time was on his side and because I\nWant you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you."}
{"name": "Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Oh, the rag-man draws circles up and down the block.\nI'd ask him what the matter was, but I know that he don't talk.\nAnd the ladies treat me kindly and they furnish me with tape,\nBut deep inside my heart I know I can't escape.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nWell, Shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells\nSpeaking to some French girl, who says she knows me well.\nAnd I would send a message to find out if she's talked,\nBut the post office's been stolen and the mailbox is locked.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nMona tried to tell me to stay away from the train line.\nShe said that all the railroad men just drink up your blood like wine.\nAnd I said, \"Oh, I didn't know that, but then again there's only one I've met\nAnd he just smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nGrandpa died last week and now he's buried in the rocks,\nBut everybody still talks about how badly they were shocked.\nBut me, I expected it to happen, I knew he'd lost control\nWhen I--he built a fire on Main Street and shot it full of holes.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the senator came down here showing everyone his gun,\nHanding out free tickets to the wedding of his son.\nAnd me, I nearly got busted - and wouldn't it be my luck\nTo get caught without a ticket and be discovered beneath a truck?\nOh, mama, is this really the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the teen-preacher looked so baffled when I asked him why he dressed\nWith twenty pounds of headlines stapled to his chest.\nBut he cursed me when I proved to him. Then I whispered and said, \"Not even you can hide.\nYou see, you're just like me. I hope you're satisfied.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the rain-man gave me two cures, then he said, \"Jump right in.\"\nThe one was Texas medicine. The other was just railroad gin.\nAnd like a fool I mixed 'em and it strangled up my mind\nAnd now people just get uglier and I have no sense of time.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nWhen Ruthie says come see her in her honky-tonk lagoon,\nWhere I can watch her waltz for free 'neath her Panamanian moon.\nAnd I say, \"Aw, come on, now, you know you know about my debutante.\"\nAnd she says, \"Your debutante just knows what you need, but I know what you want.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the bricks lay on Grand Street, where the neon madmen climb.\nThey all fall there so perfectly - it all seems so well-timed.\nAnd here I sit so patiently waiting to find out what price\nYou have to pay to get out of going through all these things twice.\nOh, mama, is this really the end,\nTo be stuck here inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?"}
{"name": "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Well, I see you got your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat,\nYes, I see you got your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\nWell, you must tell me, baby, how your head feels under something like that,\nUnder your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, you look so pretty in it. Honey, can I jump on it sometime?\nYes, I just wanna see if it's really the expensive kind.\nYou know, it balances on your head just like a mattress balances on a bottle of wine,\nYour brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, if you wanna see the sunrise, honey, I know where.\nWe'll go out and see it sometime, we'll both just sit there and stare,\nMe with my belt wrapped around my head and you just sitting there\nIn your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, I asked the doctor if I could see you. \"It's bad for your health,\" he said.\nYes, I disobeyed his orders, I came to see you, but I found him there instead.\nYou know, I don't mind him cheating on me, but I sure wish he'd take that off his head,\nYour brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, I see you got a new boyfriend, no, I never seen him before.\nWell, I saw you making love with him, you forgot to close the garage door.\nYou might think he loves you for your money, but I know what he really loves you for,\nIt's your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain.\nEverybody knows that baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again.\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she finally sees that she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying of thirst so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just can't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nAnd, when we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.\nAh, you fake just like a woman - yes, you do!\nYou make love just like a woman - yes, you do!\nThen you ache just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "You say you love me and you're thinking of me, but you know you could be wrong.\nYou say you told me that you wanna hold me, but you know you're not that strong.\nI just can't do what I done before.\nI just can't beg you anymore.\nI'm gonna let you pass\nAnd I'll go last.\nThen time will tell just who has fell and who's been left behind\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nYou say you disturb me and you don't deserve me, but you know sometimes you lie.\nYou say you're shaking and you're always aching, but you know how hard you try.\nSometimes it gets so hard to care.\nIt can't be this way everywhere.\nAnd I'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last.\nThen time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nWell, the-the judge, he holds a grudge, he's gonna call on you.\nBut he's badly built and he walks on stilts - watch out he don't fall on you!\n\nYou say you're sorry for telling stories that you know I believe are true.\nYou say you got some other kinda lover and, yes, I believe you do.\nYou say my kisses are not like his,\nBut this time I'm not gonna tell you why that is.\nI'm just gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last.\nThen time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind\nWhen you go your way and I go mine."}
{"name": "Temporary Like Achilles", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Standing on your window, honey - yes, I've been here before.\nFeeling so harmless, I'm looking at your second door.\nHow come you don't send me no regards?\nYou know I want your loving. Honey, why are you so hard?\n\nKneeling 'neath your ceiling - yes, I guess I'll be here for a while.\nI'm trying to read your portrait, but I'm helpless like a rich man's child.\nHow come you send someone out to have me barred?\nYou know I want your loving. Honey, why are you so hard?\n\nLike a poor fool in his prime, yes, I know you can hear me walk.\nBut is your heart made out of stone, or is it lime, or is it just solid rock?\n\nWell, I lean into your hallway, lean against your velvet door.\nI watch upon your scorpion, who crawls across your circus floor.\nJust what do you think you have to guard?\nYou know I want your loving, honey, but you're so hard.\n\nAchilles is in your alleyway, he don't want me here, he does brag.\nHe's pointing to the sky and he's hungry like a man in drag.\nHow come you get someone like him to be your guard?\nYou know I want your loving, honey, but you're so hard."}
{"name": "Absolutely Sweet Marie", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Well, your railroad gate, you know I just can't jump it.\nSometimes it gets so hard to see.\nI'm just sitting here beating on my trumpet\nWith all these promises you left for me.\nBut where are you tonight, sweet Marie?\n\nWell, I waited for you when I was half sick.\nYes, I waited for you when you hated me.\nWell, I waited for you inside of the frozen traffic\nYou-when you knew I had some other place to be.\nNow, where are you tonight, sweet Marie?\n\nWell, anybody can be just like me, obviously,\nBut then now again not too many can be like you, fortunately.\nWell, six white horses that you did promise\nWere finally delivered down to the penitentiary.\nBut to live outside the law you must be honest.\nI know you always say that you agree.\nAlright, so, where are you tonight, sweet Marie?\n\nWell, I don't know how it happened, but the riverboat captain, he knows my fate,\nBut everybody else - even yourself, they're just gonna have to wait.\nWell, I got the fever down in my pockets.\nThe Persian drunkard, he follows me.\nYes, I can take him to your house, but I can't unlock it.\nYou see, you forgot to leave me with the key.\nOh, where are you tonight, sweet Marie?\n\nWell, I been in jail where all the mail showed\nThat a man can't give his address out to bad company\nAnd now I stand here looking at your yellow railroad\nIn the ruins of your balcony,\nWondering where you are tonight, sweet Marie."}
{"name": "4th Time Around", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "When she said, \"Don't waste your words, they're just lies,\" I cried she was deaf\nAs she worked on my face till breaking my eyes, then said, \"What else you got left?\"\nIt was then that I got up to leave, but she said, \"Don't forget,\nEverybody must give something back for something they get.\"\n\nI stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum, I asked her how come.\nAnd she buttoned her boot and straightened her suit, then she said, \"Don't get cute,\"\nSo I forced my hands in my pockets and felt with my thumbs\nAnd gallantly handed her my very last piece of gum.\n\nShe threw me outside, I stood in the dirt where everyone walked.\nAnd, after finding that I'd forgotten my shirt, I went back and knocked.\nI waited in the hallway, she went to get it, and I tried to make sense\nOut of that picture of you in your wheelchair that leaned up against -\n\nHer Jamaican rum and, when she did come, I asked her for some.\nShe said, \"No, dear.\" I said, \"Your words aren't clear. You better spit out your plum.\"\nShe screamed till her face got so red, then she fell on the floor,\nAnd I covered her up and then thought I'll go look through her drawer.\n\nAnd when I was through, I filled up my shoe and brought it to you.\nAnd you-you took me in, you loved me then, you never wasted time.\nAnd I-I never took much, I never asked for your crutch, now don't ask for mine."}
{"name": "Obviously 5 Believers", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "Early in the morning, early in the morning\nI'm calling you to-I'm calling you to please come home.\nYes, I could make it without you if I just didn't feel so all alone.\n\nDon't let me down, don't let me down.\nI won't let you down, I won't let you down, no, I won't.\nYou know that I know, honey, but, honey, please don't.\n\nI got my black dog barking, black dog barking.\nYes, he is, now-yes, he is outside my yard.\nYes, I'd tell you what it means if I just didn't have to try so hard.\n\nYour mama's working, your mama's moaning.\nShe's crying, you know, she's trying, you know, you better go now.\nWell, I'd tell you what she wants if I--but I just don't know how.\n\nFifteen jugglers, fifteen jugglers,\nFive believers, five believers all dressed like men.\nTell your mama not to worry because, yes, they're just my friends.\n\nEarly in the morning, early in the morning\nI'm calling you to-I'm calling you to please come home.\nYes, I could make it without you, honey, if I just did not feel so all alone."}
{"name": "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands", "album": "Blonde on Blonde", "album_year": "1966)", "text": "With your mercury mouth in the missionary times\nAnd your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes\nAnd your silver cross and your voice like chimes,\nOh, who do they think could bury you?\nWith your pockets well protected at last\nAnd your streetcar visions, which you place on the grass,\nAnd your flesh like silk and your face like glass,\nWho could they get to carry you,\nSad-eyed lady of the lowlands,\nWhere the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes?\nMy warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,\nShould I put them by your gate\nOr, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?\n\nWith your sheets like metal and your belt like lace\nAnd your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace\nAnd your basement-clothes and your hollow face,\nWho among them could think he could outguess you?\nWith your silhouette when the sunlight dims\nInto your eyes, where the moonlight swims,\nAnd your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,\nWho among them would try to impress you,\nSad-eyed lady of the lowlands,\nWhere the sad-eyed prophets say that no man comes?\nMy warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,\nShould I put them by your gate\nOr, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?\n\nThe kings of Tyrus with their convict list\nAre waiting in line for their geranium kiss.\nAnd you wouldn't know it would happen like this,\nBut who among them really wants just to kiss you?\nWith your childhood flames on your midnight rug\nAnd your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs\nAnd your cowboy mouth and your curfew-plugs,\nWho among them, do you think, could resist you,\nSad-eyed lady of the lowlands,\nWhere the sad-eyed prophets say that no man comes?\nMy warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,\nShould I leave them by your gate\nOr, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?\n\nOh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide\nTo show you where the dead angels are that they used to hide.\nBut why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?\nHow could they ever mistake you?\nThey wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm,\nBut, with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm\nAnd with the child of the hoodlum wrapped up in your arms,\nHow could they ever have persuaded you,\nSad-eyed lady of the lowlands,\nWhere the sad-eyed prophets say that no man's come?\nMy warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,\nShould I leave them by your gate\nOr, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?\n\nWith your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row\nAnd your magazine-husband, who one day just had to go,\nAnd your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show,\nWho among them, do you think, would employ you?\nNow you stand with your thief - you're on his parole.\nWith your holy medallion in your fingertips now that fold\nAnd your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul,\nWho among them could ever think he could destroy you,\nSad-eyed lady of the lowlands,\nWhere the sad-eyed prophets say that no man comes?\nMy warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,\nShould I leave them by your gate\nOr, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?"}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Well, they'll stone you when you're trying to be so good,\nThey'll stone you just like they said they would,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to go home,\nThen they'll stone you when you're there all alone.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you're walking on the street,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to keep your seat,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking on the floor,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking to the door.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're at the breakfast table,\nThey'll stone you when you are young and able,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to make a buck,\nThey'll stone you and then they'll say, \"Good luck.\"\nYeah, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you and say that it's the end,\nThen they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your car,\nThey'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.\nYes, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\nAlright!\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you are all alone,\nThey'll stone you when you are walking home,\nThey'll stone you and then say, \"You are brave,\"\nThey'll stone you when you're set down in your grave.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThe battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho's never weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo lightly from the ledge, babe,\nGo lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI will only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back in the night,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho'll pick you up each time you fall,\nTo gather flowers constantly,\nAnd to come each time you call,\nA lover for your life and nothing more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud.\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nA complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he took from you everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo have--be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, princess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Johnny's in the basement\nMixing up the medicine,\nI'm on the pavement\nThinking about the government,\nThe man in the trench-coat,\nBadge out, laid off,\nSays he's got a bad cough,\nWants to get it paid off.\nLook out, kid,\nIt's something you did\nGod knows when,\nBut you're doing it again,\nYou better duck down the alleyway,\nLooking for a new friend.\nThe man in the coon-skin cap\nIn the pigpen\nWants eleven dollar bills,\nYou only got ten.\n\nMaggie comes fleet-foot,\nFace full of black soot,\nTalking that the heat put\nPlants in the bed, but\nThe phone's tapped anyway,\nMaggie says that many say\nThey must bust in early May,\nOrders from the D.A.\nLook out, kid,\nDon't matter what you did,\nDon't walk on your tip-toes,\nDon't try No Doz,\nBetter stay away from those\nThat carry 'round a fire-hose,\nKeep a clean nose,\nWatch the plain-clothes,\nYou don't need a weatherman\nTo know which way the wind blows.\n\nAh, get sick, get well,\nHang around the ink-well,\nRing bell, hard to tell\nIf anything is gonna sell,\nTry hard, get barred,\nGet back, write Braille,\nGet jailed, jump bail,\nJoin the army if you fail.\nLook out, kid,\nYou're gonna get hit\nBy losers, cheaters,\nSix-time users\nHanging 'round the theaters,\nGirl by the whirlpool's\nLooking for a new fool,\nDon't follow leaders,\nWatch the parking meters.\n\nOh, get born, keep warm,\nShort pants, romance, learn to dance,\nGet dressed, get blessed,\nTry to be a success,\nPlease her, please him, buy gifts,\nDon't steal, don't lift,\nTwenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.\nLook out, kid,\nThey keep it all hid,\nBetter jump down a manhole,\nLight yourself a candle,\nDon't wear sandals\nAnd try to avoid the scandals.\nDon't wanna be a bum,\nYou better chew gum,\nThe pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles."}
{"name": "I Want You", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "The guilty undertaker sighs, the lonesome organ-grinder cries,\nThe silver saxophones say I should refuse you.\nThe cracked bells and washed-out horns blow into my face with scorn,\nBut it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nThe drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep\nAnd the saviors, who are fast asleep, they wait for you.\nAnd I wait for them to interrupt me drinking from my broken cup\nAnd ask me to open up the gate for you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, all my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nBut all their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nWell, I return to the Queen of Spades and talk with my chambermaid,\nShe knows that she's not afraid to look at her.\nShe is good to me and there's nothing she doesn't see,\nShe knows where I'd like to be, but it doesn't matter.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, your dancing child with his Chinese suit, he spoke to me, I took his flute.\nNo, I wasn't very cute to him, was I?\nBut I did it because he lied, because he took you for a ride,\nAnd because time was on his side and because I\nWant you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you."}
{"name": "Positively 4th Street", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend,\nWhen I was down, you just stood there grinning.\nYou got a lotta nerve to say you got a helping hand to lend,\nYou just want to be on the side that's winning.\nYou say I let you down, you know it's not like that.\nIf you're so hurt, why then don't you show it?\nYou say you lost your faith, but that's not where it's at,\nYou had no faith to lose and you know it.\nI know the reason that you talk behind my back,\nI used to be among the crowd you're in with.\nDo you take me for such a fool to think I'd make contact\nWith the one who tries to hide what he don't know to begin with?\nYou see me on the street, you always act surprised,\nYou say, \"How are you?\", \"Good luck\", but you don't mean it\nWhen you know as well as me you'd rather see me paralyzed --\nWhy don't you just come out once and scream it?\nNo, I do not feel that good when I see the heartbreaks you embrace,\nIf I was a master thief perhaps I'd rob them,\nAnd, now, I know you're dissatisfied with your position and your place.\nDon't you understand it's not my problem?\nI wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes\nAnd just for that one moment I could be you.\nYes, I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes,\nYou'd know what a drag it is to see you."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain.\nEverybody knows that baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again.\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she finally sees that she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying of thirst so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just can't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nAnd, when we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.\nAh, you fake just like a woman - yes, you do!\nYou make love just like a woman - yes, you do!\nThen you ache just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "John Wesley Harding", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "John Wesley Harding was a friend to the poor.\nHe traveled a-with a gun in every hand.\nAll along this countryside he opened many a door,\nBut he was never known to hurt an honest man.\n\n'Twas down in Chaynee County, a time they talk about,\nWith his lady by his side he took a stand.\nAnd soon the situation there was all but straightened out\nFor he was always known to lend a helping hand.\n\nAll across the telegraph his name, it did resound,\nBut no charge held against him could they prove.\nAnd there was no man around who could track or chain him down.\nHe was never known to make a foolish move."}
{"name": "As I Went Out One Morning", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "As I went out one morning to breathe the air around Tom Paine's,\nI spied the fairest damsel that ever did walk in chains.\nI offered her my hand, she took me by the arm.\nI knew that very instant she meant to do me harm.\n\n\"Depart from me this moment,\" I told her with my voice.\nSaid she, \"But I don't wish to.\" Said I, \"But you have no choice.\"\n\"I beg you, sir,\" she pleaded from the corners of her mouth.\n\"I will secretly accept you and together we'll fly south.\"\n\nJust then Tom Paine himself came running from across the field,\nShouting at this lovely girl and commanding her to yield.\nAnd, as she was letting go her grip, up Tom Paine did run.\n\"I'm sorry, sir,\" he said to me. \"I'm sorry for what she's done.\""}
{"name": "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "I dreamed I saw Saint Augustine, alive as you or me,\nTearing through these quarters in the utmost misery,\nWith a blanket underneath his arm and a coat of solid gold,\nSearching for the very souls whom already have been sold.\n\n\"Arise! Arise!\" he cried so loud with a voice without restraint.\n\"Come out, ye gifted kings and queens, and hear my sad complaint!\nNo martyr is among ye now whom you can call your own.\nBut, go on your way accordingly, but know you're not alone.\"\n\nI dreamed I saw Saint Augustine, alive with fiery breath.\nAnd I dreamed I was amongst the ones that put him out to death.\nOh, I awoke in anger, so alone and terrified.\nI put my fingers against the glass and bowed my head and cried."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "\"There must be some way out of here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest, they were the best of friends.\nSo, when Frankie Lee needed money one day, Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens\nAnd placed them on a footstool just above the plotted plain,\nSaying, \"Take your pick, Frankie Boy. My loss will be your gain.\"\n\nWell, Frankie Lee, he sat right down and put his fingers to his chin,\nBut with the cold eyes of Judas on him his head began to spin.\n\"Could you please not stare at me like that?\" he said, \"It's just my foolish pride,\nBut sometimes a man must be alone and this is no place to hide.\"\n\nWell, Judas, he just winked and said, \"Alright, I'll leave you here.\nBut, you'd better hurry up and choose which of those bills you want before they all disappear.\"\n\"I'm gonna start my picking right now. Just tell me where you'll be.\"\nJudas pointed down the road and said, \"Eternity.\"\n\"Eternity?\" said Frankie Lee with a voice as cold as ice.\n\"That's right,\" said Judas, \"Eternity, though you might call it paradise.\"\n\"I don't call it anything,\" said Frankie Lee with a smile.\n\"Alright,\" said Judas Priest, \"I'll see you after a while.\"\n\nWell, Frankie Lee, he sat back down, feeling low and mean\nWhen just then a passing stranger burst upon the scene,\nSaying, \"Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler, whose father is deceased?\nWell, if you are, there's a fellow calling you down the road and they say his name is Priest.\"\n\"Oh, yes, he is my friend,\" said Frankie Lee in fright.\n\"I do recall him very well. In fact, he just left my sight.\"\n\"Yes, that's the one,\" said the stranger, as quiet as a mouse.\n\"Well, my message is he's down the road, stranded in a house.\"\nWell, Frankie Lee, he panicked. He dropped everything and ran\nUntil he came up to the spot where Judas Priest did stand.\n\"What kind of house is this,\" he said, \"where I have come to roam?\"\n\"It's not a house,\" says Judas Priest. \"It's not a house, it's a home.\"\n\nWell, Frankie Lee, he trembled. He soon lost all control\nOver everything which he had made while the mission-bells did toll.\nHe just stood there staring at that big house as bright as any sun\nWith four-and-twenty windows and a woman's face in every one.\nWell, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee with a soulful, bounding leap\nAnd, foaming at the mouth, he began to make his midnight creep.\nFor sixteen nights and days he raved, but on the seventeenth he burst\nInto the arms of Judas Priest, which is where he died of thirst.\nNo one tried to say a thing when they carried him out in jest -\nExcept of course the little neighbor-boy, who carried him to rest,\nAnd he just walked along alone with his guilt so well-concealed\nAnd muttered underneath his breath, \"Nothing is revealed.\"\n\nWell, the moral of the story, the moral of this song\nIs simply that one should never be where one does not belong.\nSo, when you see your neighbor carrying something, help him with his load\nAnd don't go mistaking paradise for that home across the road."}
{"name": "Drifter's Escape", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "\"Oh, help me in my weakness,\" I heard the drifter say\nAs they carried him from the courtroom and were taking him away.\n\"My trip hasn't been a pleasant one and my time, it isn't long.\nAnd I still do not know what it was that I've done wrong.\"\n\nWell, the judge, he cast his robe aside. A tear came to his eye.\n\"You'd fail to understand,\" he said. \"Why must you even try?\"\nOutside the crowd was stirring - you could hear it from the door;\nInside the judge was stepping down while the jury cried for more.\n\n\"Oh, stop that cursed jury!\" cried the attendant and the nurse.\n\"The trial was bad enough, but this is ten times worse.\"\nJust then a bolt of lightning struck the courthouse out of shape\nAnd, while everybody knelt to pray, the drifter did escape."}
{"name": "Dear Landlord", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Dear Landlord, please don't put a price on my soul.\nMy burden is heavy, my dreams are beyond control.\nWhen that steamboat whistle blows, I'm gonna give you all I got to give\nAnd I do hope you receive it well, depending on the way you feel that you live.\n\nDear Landlord, please heed these words that I speak.\nI know you've suffered much, but in this you are not so unique.\nAll of us at times, we might work too hard to have it too fast and too much.\nAnd anyone can fill his life up with things he can see, but he just cannot touch.\n\nDear Landlord, please don't dismiss my case.\nI'm not about to argue, I'm not about to move to no other place.\nNow, each of us has his own special gift and you know this was meant to be true.\nAnd, if you don't underestimate me, I won't underestimate you."}
{"name": "I Am a Lonesome Hobo", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "I am a lonesome hobo without family or friends.\nWhere another man's life might begin, that's exactly where mine ends.\nI have tried my hand at bribery, blackmail, and deceit.\nAnd I've served time for everything 'cept begging on the street.\n\nWell, once I was rather prosperous, there was nothing I did lack.\nI had fourteen-karat gold in my mouth and silk upon my back.\nBut I did not trust my brother, I carried him to blame,\nWhich led me to my fatal doom, to wander off in shame.\n\nKind ladies and kind gentlemen, soon I will be gone.\nBut, let me just warn you all before I do pass on:\nStay free from petty jealousies, live by no man's code,\nAnd hold your judgment for yourself lest you wind up on this road."}
{"name": "I Pity the Poor Immigrant", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "I pity the poor immigrant who wishes he would've stayed home,\nWho uses all his power to do evil, but in the end is always left so alone,\nThat man whom with his fingers cheats and whom lies with every breath,\nWho passionately hates his life and likewise fears his death.\n\nI pity the poor immigrant whose strength is spent in vain,\nWhose heaven is like Ironside's, whose tears are like rain,\nWho eats, but is not satisfied, who hears, but does not see,\nWho falls in love with wealth itself and turns his back on me.\n\nI pity the poor immigrant who tramples through the mud,\nWho fills his mouth with laughing and who builds his town with blood,\nWhose visions in the final end must shatter like the glass.\nI pity the poor immigrant when his gladness comes to pass."}
{"name": "The Wicked Messenger", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "There was a wicked messenger - from Eli he did come,\nWith a mind that multiplied the smallest matter.\nWhen questioned who had sent for him he answered with his thumb\nFor his tongue, it could not speak, but only flatter.\n\nHe stayed behind the assembly hall. It was there he made his bed.\nOftentimes he could be seen returning\nUntil one day he just appeared with a note in his hand, which read:\n\"The soles of my feet, I swear they're burning.\"\n\nOh, the leaves began to falling and the seas began to part\nAnd the people that confronted him were many.\nAnd he was told but these few words, which opened up his heart:\n\"If ye cannot bring good news, then don't bring any.\""}
{"name": "Down along the Cove", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Down along the cove I spied my true love coming my way.\nDown along the cove I spied my true love coming my way.\nI said, \"Lord, have mercy! Mama, it sure is good to see you coming today!\"\n\nDown along the cove I spied my little bundle of joy.\nDown along the cove I spied my little bundle of joy.\nShe said, \"Lord, have mercy! Honey, I'm so glad you're my boy!\"\n\nDown along the cove we walk together hand in hand.\nDown along the cove we walk together hand in hand.\nEverybody watching us a-go by knows we're in love, yes, they understand."}
{"name": "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight", "album": "John Wesley Harding", "album_year": "1967", "text": "Close your eyes, close the door.\nYou don't have to worry any more.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nShut the light, shut the shade.\nYou don't have to be afraid.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nWell, that mockingbird's gonna sail away - we're gonna forget it.\nThat big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon, but we're gonna let it. You won't regret it.\nKick your shoes off, do not fear.\nBring that bottle over here.\nI'll be your baby tonight."}
{"name": "Girl from the North Country", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "If you're traveling to the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to one who lives there\nFor she once was a true love of mine.\n\nSee for me that her hair's hanging down,\nIt curls and falls all down her breast.\nSee for me that her hair's hanging down.\nThat's the way I remember her best.\n\nIf you go when the snowflakes fall,\nWhen the rivers freeze and summer ends,\nPlease see for me if she's wearing her coat so warm,\nTo keep her from the howling winds.\n\nIf you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to one who lives there\nFor she once was a true love of mine.\n\nIf you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to one who lives there.\nShe once was a true love of mine,\nA true love of mine,\nTrue love of mine,\nA true love of mine."}
{"name": "To Be Alone with You", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "Is it rolling, Bob?\n\nTo be alone with you,\nJust you and me.\nNow, won't you tell me true,\nAin't that the way it oughtta be?\nTo hold each other tight\nThe whole night through.\nEverything is always right\nWhen I'm alone with you.\n\nTo be alone with you\nAt the close of the day,\nWith only you in view\nWhile evening slips away.\nIt only goes to show\nThat, while life's pleasures be few,\nThe only one I know\nIs when I'm alone with you.\n\nThey say the nighttime is the right time to be with the one you love.\nToo many thoughts get in the way in the day, but you're always what I'm thinking of.\nI wish tonight were here,\nBringing me all of your charms,\nWhen only you are near\nTo hold me in your arms.\nI'll always thank the Lord\nWhen my working day's through.\nI get my sweet reward,\nTo be alone with you."}
{"name": "I Threw It All Away", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "I once held her in my arms.\nShe said she would always stay.\nBut I was cruel, I treated her like a fool.\nI threw it all away.\n\nOnce I had mountains in the palm of my hand\nAnd rivers that ran through every day.\nI musta been mad, I never knew what I had\nUntil I threw it all away.\n\nLove is all there is, it makes the world go 'round.\nLove and only love - it can't be denied.\nNo matter what you think about it, you just won't be able to do without it.\nTake a tip from one who's tried.\nSo, if you find someone who gives you all of her love,\nTake it to your heart, don't let it stray\nFor one thing for certain, you will surely be a-hurting\nIf you throw it all away."}
{"name": "Peggy Day", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "Peggy Day stole my poor heart away.\nBy golly, what more can I say?\nLove to spend the night with Peggy Day.\n\nPeggy Night makes my future look so bright.\nMan, that girl is out of sight.\nLove to spend the day with Peggy Night.\n\nWell, you know--even before I learned her name,\nYou know, I loved her just the same.\nAnd I tell 'em all wherever I may go just so they'll know\nThat she's my little lady and I love her so.\n\nPeggy Day stole my poor heart away,\nTurned my skies to blue from gray.\nLove to spend the night with Peggy Day.\n\nPeggy Day stole my poor heart away.\nBy golly, what more can I say?\nLove to spend the night with Peggy Day,\nLove to spend the night with Peggy Day."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nUntil the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his--his hands are clean\nAnd you're the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach for you in the night.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "One More Night", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "One more night the stars are in sight,\nBut tonight I'm as lonesome as can be.\nOh, the moon is shining bright, lighting everything in sight,\nBut tonight no moonlight will shine on me.\n\nOh, it's shameful and it's sad, I lost the only pal I had.\nI just could not be what she wanted me to be.\nI will turn my head up high to that dark and rolling sky\nFor tonight no moonlight will shine on me.\n\nI was so mistaken when I thought that she'd be true.\nI had no idea what a woman in love would do.\n\nOne more night I will wait for the light\nWhile the wind blows high above the tree.\nOh, I miss my darling so, I didn't mean to see her go,\nBut tonight no moonlight will shine on me.\n\nOne more night the moon is shining bright\nAnd the wind blows high above the tree.\nOh, I miss that woman so, I didn't mean to see her go,\nBut tonight no moonlight will shine on me."}
{"name": "Tell Me That It Isn't True", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "I have heard rumors all over town.\nThey say that you're planning to put me down.\nAll I'd like you to do\nIs tell me that it isn't true.\n\nThey say that you've been seen with some other man,\nThat he's tall, dark, and handsome and you're holding his hand.\nDarling, I'm a-counting on you.\nTell me that it isn't true.\n\nTo know that some other man is holding you tight,\nIt hurts me all over, it doesn't seem right.\n\nAll of these awful things that I have heard,\nI don't wanna believe them, all I want is your word.\nSo, darling, you better come through.\nTell me that it isn't true.\n\nAll of these awful things that I have heard,\nI don't want to believe them, all I want is your word.\nSo, darling, I'm counting on you.\nTell me that it isn't true."}
{"name": "Country Pie", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "Just like old Saxophone Joe when he's got the hogshead up on his toe -\nOh me, oh my, love that country pie!\n\nListen to the fiddler play when he's playing till the break of day -\nOh me, oh my, love that country pie!\n\nRaspberry, strawberry, lemon, and lime - what do I care?\nBlueberry, apple, cherry, pumpkin, and plum - call me for dinner, honey, I'll be there.\n\nSaddle me up my big, white goose, tie me on her and turn her loose -\nOh me, oh my, love that country pie!\n\nI don't need much, that ain't no lie - ain't running any race!\nGive to me my country pie, I won't throw it up in anybody's face!\n\nShake me up that old peach tree, little Jack Horner got nothing on me -\nOh me, oh my, love that country pie!"}
{"name": "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here with You", "album": "Nashville Skyline", "album_year": "1969", "text": "Throw my ticket out the window.\nThrow my suitcase out there too.\nThrow my troubles out the door, I don't need them anymore\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.\n\nI should have left this town this morning,\nBut it was more than I could do.\nOh, your love comes on so strong and I've waited all day long\nFor tonight when I'll be staying here with you.\n\nIs it really any wonder,\nThe love that a stranger might receive?\nYou cast your spell and I went under.\nI find it so difficult to leave.\nI can hear that whistle blowing.\nI see that stationmaster too.\nIf there's a poor boy on the street, then let him have my seat\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.\n\nThrow my ticket out the window.\nThrow my suitcase out there too.\nThrow my troubles out the door, I don't need them anymore\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you."}
{"name": "All the Tired Horses", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "All the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm.\n\nAll the tired horses in the sun,\nHow'm I supposed to get any riding done?\nHmm."}
{"name": "Alberta #1", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Alberta, let your hair hang low,\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nI'll give you more gold than your apron can hold\nIf you'll only let your hair hang low.\n\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\nYou keep me worried and bothered all of the time,\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\n\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind,\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind,\nOh, my heart is sad 'cause I want you so bad,\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind.\n\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nI'll give you more gold than your apron can hold\nIf you'll only let your hair hang low."}
{"name": "I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.\n\nYou think you know the smile on her lips,\nThe thrill and the touch of her fingertips,\nBut I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.\n\nYou think you'll find a heaven of bliss\nIn each caress, in each tender kiss,\nBut I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.\n\nYou stole her love from me one day,\nYou didn't care that it hurt me,\nBut you can never steal away\nMemories of what used to be.\n\nYou think she's yours to have and to hold,\nSomeday you'll learn when her love grows cold,\nBut I forgot more than you'll ever know about her."}
{"name": "Days of 49", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "I'm old Tom Moore from the bummers' shore in the good old, golden days,\nThey call me a bummer and a gin sot, too, but what cares I for praise?\nI wander around from town to town just like a roving sign\nAnd all the people say, \"There goes Tom Moore,\" in the days of '49 -\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, how oftentimes I repine\nFor the days of old when we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.\n\nMy comrades, they all loved me well - a jolly, saucy crew,\nA few hard cases I will recall, though they all were brave and true.\nWhatever the pitch, they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine,\nLike good, old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49 -\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, how ofttimes I repine\nFor the days of old when we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.\n\nThere was New York Jake, the butcher's boy, he was always getting tight\nAnd, every time that he'd get full, he was spoiling for a fight.\nThen Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein,\nAnd over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49 -\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, how oftentimes I repine\nFor the days of old when we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.\n\nThere was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game,\nWhether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same,\nHe would ante up and draw his cards and would you go a hatful blind;\nIn a game with death Bill lost his breath in the days of '49 -\n(Oh, my goodness!)\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, in the day-times I repine,\nIn the days of old and the days of gold, those were days of '49.\n\nThere was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo I never will forget,\nHe would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet,\nOne day he fell in a prospect hole in a roaring, bad design\nAnd in that hole he roared out his soul in the days of '49 -\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, how ofttimes I repine\nFor the days of old when we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.\n\nOh, the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast\nAnd I'm left alone in my misery like some old, poor, wandering ghost\nAnd I pass by from town to town, they call me the Rambling Sign --\n\"There goes Tom Moore, a bummer, sure\" -- in the days of '49 -\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, how oftentimes I repine\nFor the days of old when we dug up the gold, in the days of '49,\nIn the days of old when we dug up the gold, how ofttimes I repine,\nIn the days of old, in the days of gold, in the days of '49."}
{"name": "Early Mornin' Rain", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand\nAnd an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand,\nI'm a long way from home and I miss my loved one so,\nIn the early morning rain with nowhere to go.\n\nOut on runway number nine, big 707 set to go,\nI'm stuck here on the ground where the cold winds blow,\nThe liquor tasted good and the women all were fast -\nThere she goes, my friend, she's a-rolling down at last.\n\nHear the mighty engines roar, see the silver bird on high,\nShe's away and westward-bound, far above the clouds she'll fly,\nWhere the morning rain don't fall and the sun always shines,\nShe'll be flying over my home in about three hours' time.\n\nThis old airport's got me down, it's no earthly good to me\n'Cause I'm stuck here on the ground, cold and drunk as I might be.\nYou can't hop a jet plane like you can a freight train,\nSo I best be on my way in the early morning rain."}
{"name": "In Search of Little Sadie", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Went out last night just to take a little round,\nI met my little Sadie and I brought her down,\nI run right home and I went to bed\nWith a .44 smokeless under my head.\n\nI began to think of what a deed I'd done,\nI grabbed my hat and I began to run,\nI made a good run, but I run too slow:\nThey overtook me down in Jericho.\n\nStanding on a corner a-just ringing my bell,\nUp stepped the sheriff from Thomasville,\nHe says, \"Young man, is your name Brown?\nRemember, you blowed little Sadie down.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, sir, my name is Lee,\nI murdered little Sadie in first degree,\nFirst degree and second degree,\nIf you got any papers, will you serve 'em to me?\"\n\nWell, they took me downtown and they dressed me in black,\nThey put me on a train and they sent me back.\nI had no one for to go my bail,\nThey crammed me back into the county jail -\nOh, yes, they did.\nNow, the judge and the jury, they took their stand,\nThe judge had the papers in his right hand -\nForty-one days, forty-one nights,\nForty-one years to wear the ball and the stripes -\nOh, no!\n\nI went out last night to take a little round,\nI met little Sadie and I blowed her down,\nI run right home and I went to bed,\nA .44 smokeless under my head."}
{"name": "Let It Be Me", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "I bless the day I found you,\nI want my arms around you,\nSo I beg you: let it be me.\n\nA-don't take a-this heaven from one,\nIf you must cling to someone,\nNow and forever let it be me.\n\nEach time we meet, love,\nI find complete love;\nWithout your sweet love,\nWhat would life be?\n\nSo, never leave me lonely,\nTell me that you love me only,\nAnd a-say you'll always let it be me.\n\nSo, never leave me lonely,\nTell me that you love me only,\nAnd say you'll always let it be me."}
{"name": "Little Sadie", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "I went out last night to take a little round,\nI met little Sadie and I blowed her down,\nI run right home and I went to bed\nWith a .44 smokeless under my head.\n\nI went out last night to take a little round,\nI met little Sadie and I blowed her down,\nI run right home and I went to bed\nWith a .44 smokeless under my head.\n\nI begun to think what a deed I'd done,\nI grabbed my hat and away I'd run,\nI made a good run, but I run too slow:\nThey overtook me down in Jericho.\n\nStanding on a corner a-ringing my bell,\nUp stepped the sheriff from Thomasville,\nHe says, \"Young man, is your name Brown?\nRemember the night you lay--blowed little Sadie down?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, sir, my name is Lee,\nI murdered little Sadie in first degree,\nFirst degree and second degree -\nGot any papers, will you serve 'em to me?\"\n\nTook me downtown and they dressed me in black,\nThey put me on a train and they brought me back,\nHad no one to go my bail,\nCrammed me back into the county jail.\nJudge and jury took their stand,\nJudge had the papers in his hand -\nForty-one days, forty-one nights,\nForty-one years to wear the ball and the stripes."}
{"name": "Belle Isle", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "One evening for pleasure I rambled to view the fair fields all alone\nDown by the banks of Loch Eiron where beauty and pleasure were known.\nI spied a fair maid at her labour, which caused me to stay for a while,\nAnd I thought of a goddess of beauty, the blooming, bright star of Bright Isle.\n\nI humbled myself to her beauty: \"Fair maiden, where do you belong?\nAre you from heaven descended, abiding in Cupid's fair throne?\"\n\"Young man, I will tell you a secret: it's true I'm a maid that is poor\nAnd to part from my vows and my promise is more than my heart can endure;\nTherefore, I remain at my service and go through all my hardship and toil\nAnd wait for the lad that has left me all alone on the banks of Belle Isle.\"\n\n\"Young maiden, I wish not to banter, 'tis true I come here in disguise,\nI came here to fulfill our last promise and hoped to give you a surprise.\nI own you're a maid I love dearly and you've been in my heart all the while,\nFor me there is no other damsel than my blooming, bright star of Belle Isle.\""}
{"name": "Living the Blues", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Since you've been gone,\nI've been walking around\nWith my head bowed down to my shoes,\nI've been living the blues every night without you.\n\nI don't have to go far\nTo know where you are -\nStrangers all give me the news,\nI've been living the blues every night without you.\n\nI think that it's best\nI soon get some rest\nAnd forget my pride,\nBut I can't deny\nThis feeling that I\nCarry for you deep down inside.\n\nIf you'd see me this a-way,\nYou'd come back and you'd stay -\nOh, how could you refuse?\nI've been living the blues every night without you.\n\nI think that it's best\nI soon get some rest\nAnd forget my pride,\nBut I can't deny\nThis feeling that I\nCarry for you deep down inside.\n\nIf you'd see me this way,\nYou'd come back and you'd stay -\nOh, how could you refuse?\nI've been living the blues every night without you,\nI've been living the blues every night without you,\nI've been living the blues every night without you."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall\" - you thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used--be so proud\nAbout everybody that was hanging out;\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't act so--so proud\nAbout having to be a-scrounging around, scrounging around for your next meal -\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nTo be--direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nYou gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it,\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're better--you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now--but--his eye--\nInto the vacuum of his eyes--\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do--would you like to--come on now, would you like to come up and make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nPrincess up on the steeple and all them pretty people,\nThinking and drinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all the precious gifts and things,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring down, now, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used -\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse:\nWhen you ain't got nothing, girl, you got nothing to lose -\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nJust like a rolling stone,\nLike a rolling stone,\nJust like a rolling stone,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Copper Kettle (The Pale Moonlight)", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Get you a copper kettle, get you a copper coil,\nFill it with new-made corn mash and never more you'll toil,\nYou'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright,\nWatch them jugs a-filling in the pale moonlight.\n\nBuild you a fire with hickory - hickory, ash, and oak,\nDon't use no green or rotten wood - they'll get you by the smoke,\nWe'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright,\nWatch them jugs a-filling in the pale moonlight.\n\nMy daddy, he made whiskey, my granddaddy, he did, too,\nWe ain't paid no whiskey tax since 1792.\nWe'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright,\nWatch them jugs a-filling in the pale moonlight,\nIn the pale moonlight."}
{"name": "Gotta Travel On", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long,\nSummer's almost gone, winter's coming on,\nDone laid around, done stayed around this old town too long\nAnd it seems like I've gotta travel on,\nAnd it seems like I've a-gotta travel on.\n\nPapa writes to Johnny - Johnny can't come home,\nJohnny can't come home, Johnny can't come home.\nPapa writes to Johnny - johnny can't come home,\nJohnny's been out on the road too long.\nSo, I done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long,\nSummer's almost gone, winter's coming on,\nDone laid around, done stayed around this old town too long\nAnd it seems like I've gotta travel on.\n\nThat chilly wind will soon begin and I'll be on my way,\nGoing home to stay, going home to stay,\nThat chilly wind will soon begin and I'll be on my way\nAnd I feel like I just a-wanna travel on.\nSo, I done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long,\nSummer's almost gone, winter's coming on,\nOh, yes, I've done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long\nAnd it seems like I want to travel on.\n\nThere's a lonesome freight at six o' eight a-coming through the town:\nI'll be homeward bound, I'll be homeward bound.\nA lonesome freight at six o' eight coming on through the town\nAnd I feel like I just a-want to travel on.\nWell, I done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long,\nSummer's almost gone, winter's coming on, yes, it is,\nDone laid around, done stayed around this old town too long\nAnd it seems like I want to travel on."}
{"name": "Blue Moon", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Blue moon, you saw me standing alone\nWithout a dream in my heart,\nWithout a love of my own.\n\nBlue moon, you knew just what I was there for,\nYou heard me saying a prayer for\nSomeone I really could care for.\n\nAnd suddenly there appeared before me\nThe only one my arms could ever hold,\nI heard someone whisper, \"Please adore me,\"\nAnd when I looked, my moon had turned to gold.\n\nBlue moon, now, I'm no longer alone\nWithout a dream in my heart,\nWithout a love of my own,\nWithout a love of my own."}
{"name": "The Boxer", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told,\nI have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises\nAll lies and jest;\nStill, a man hears what he wants to hear\nAnd disregards the rest.\n\nWhen I left my home and family, I was no more than a boy\nIn the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railroad station running scared,\nLaying low,\nSeeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go,\nLooking for the places only they would know.\n\nAsking only workman's wages, I come looking for a job,\nBut I get no offers, just a come-on from the whores on 7th avenue -\nI do declare\nThere were times when I was so lonesome\nI took some comfort there.\n\nThen I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone,\nGoing home,\nWhere the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,\nLeading me, going home.\n\nIn the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade\nAnd he carries a reminder of every blow that's laid him low and cut him till he cried out\nIn his anger and his shame,\n\"I am leaving, I am leaving!\"\nBut the fighter still remains."}
{"name": "The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo)", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Well, everybody's building their boats,\nSome are building monuments, others jotting down notes,\nEverybody's in despair, every girl and boy,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna jump for joy.\nOh, come all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nWhoa! and--well, I can do just like the rest, you know, I like my sugar sweet,\nBut jumping Qs and making haste, you know, it ain't my cup of meat.\nEverybody's out there feeding the pigeons out on the limb,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, the pigeons gonna run to him.\nWell, come all without, come all within,\nYeah, you'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nPlay that guitar now!\n\nCat's moo and calf's meow, you know, I--I can recite them all,\nTell me where it a-hurts you, honey, and I'll tell you who to call.\nNobody can get any sleep - you know, there's someone on everybody's toes;\nQuinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna wanna doze.\nOh, come all without, yeah, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nWhoa, come all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!"}
{"name": "Take Me As I Am (Or Let Me Go)", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Why must you always try to make me over?\nTake me as I am or let me go.\nWhite lilies never grow on stalks of clover,\nTake me as I am or let me go.\n\nYou're trying to reshape me in a mold, love,\nIn the image of someone you used to know,\nBut I won't be a stand-in for an old love,\nTake me as I am or let me go.\n\nYou've tried to change me ever since you've met me,\nTake me as I am or let me go.\nIf you cannot overlook my faults, forget me:\nTake me as I am or let me go.\n\nYou're trying to reshape me in a mold, love,\nIn the image of someone you used to know,\nBut I won't be a stand-in for an old love,\nTake me as I am or let me go."}
{"name": "Take a Message to Mary", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Take a message to Mary, but don't tell her where I am,\nTake a message to Mary, but don't say I'm in a jam -\nYou can tell her that I had to see the world, tell her that my ship's at sail,\nYou can say she'd better not wait for me, but don't tell her I'm in jail,\nOh, don't tell her I'm in jail.\n\nTake a message to Mary, but don't tell her what I've done,\nPlease don't mention the stage coach and the shot from a careless gun -\nYou can tell her that I had to change my plans and cancel out the wedding-day,\nBut please don't mention my lonely cell where I'm gonna pine away\nUntil my dying-day.\n\nTake a message to Mary, but don't tell her all you know,\nMy heart is aching for Mary, Lord knows I miss her so -\nJust tell her that I went to Timbuktu, tell her that I'm searching for gold,\nYou can say she'd better find someone new to cherish and to hold -\nOh, Lord, this cell is cold!"}
{"name": "It Hurts Me Too", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "So, run here, baby, put your little hands in mine,\nI've got something to tell you, I know you're gonna change your mind.\nWhen things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nIt hurts me, too.\n\nI want you, baby, just to understand\nI don't wanna be your boss, baby, I just wanna be your man.\nWhen things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nIt hurts me, too.\n\nNow, when you go home, you don't have to get along,\nCome back to me, baby, where I live, that's where you belong.\nWhen things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nIt hurts me, too.\n\nI love you, baby, and you know that it's true,\nI wouldn't mistreat you, baby, nothing in this world is like you.\nWhen things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nIt hurts me, too,\nYes, when things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nIt hurts me, too.\n\nSo, run here, baby, put your little hand in mine,\nI've got something to tell you, baby, I know that will change your mind.\nWhen things go wrong, so wrong with you,\nDon't you know it--don't you know it hurts me, too?"}
{"name": "Minstrel Boy", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it roll?\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it down easy to save his soul?\n\nOh, Lucky's driving a long, long time -\nThere he still sits on top of the hill.\nWell, aching, tumbled, with all laid down,\nWith all of them ladies, you know, he's the--lonely still.\n\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it roll?\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it down easy to save his soul?\n\nWell, he deep in number and heavy in toil,\nMighty Mockingbird, he still has such a heavy load,\nBeneath his boundaries - what more if I can tell\nWith all of his traveling, but I'm still on that road.\n\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it roll?\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it down easy to save his soul?\n\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it roll?\nWho's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin,\nWho's gonna let it down easy to save his soul?"}
{"name": "She Belongs to Me", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe'll take the dark out of the nighttime and turn the daytime black.\n\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nBut you will wind up peeking through her keyhole down upon your knees.\n\nShe never stumbles, she got no place to fall,\nShe never stumbles, she got no place to fall,\nShe's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.\n\nShe wears an Egyptian ring and it sparkles just before she speaks,\nShe wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.\n\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nFor Halloween buy her a trumpet and for Christmas buy her a drum,\nFor Halloween give her a trumpet and for Christmas buy her a drum,\nFor Halloween buy her a trumpet and for Christmas buy her a drum."}
{"name": "Alberta #2", "album": "Self Portrait", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Alberta, let your hair hang low,\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nI'll give you more gold than your apron can hold\nIf you'll only let your hair hang low.\n\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\nYou keep me worried and bothered all of the time,\nAlberta, what's on your mind?\n\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind,\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind,\nOh, my heart is so sad 'cause I want you so bad,\nAlberta, don't you treat me unkind.\n\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nAlberta, let your hair hang low,\nI'll give you more gold than your apron can hold\nIf you'll only let your hair hang low."}
{"name": "If Not for You", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "If not for you,\nBabe, I couldn't find the door,\nCouldn't even see the floor,\nI'd be sad and blue,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nBabe, I'd lay awake all night,\nWait for the morning light\nTo shine in through,\nBut it would not be new,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nI'd be lost if not for you and you know it's true.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nOh, what would I do if not for you?\n\nIf not for you,\nWinter would have no spring,\nI couldn't hear the robin sing,\nI just wouldn't have a clue,\nAnyway, it wouldn't ring true,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you."}
{"name": "Day of the Locusts", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Oh, the benches were stained with tears and perspiration,\nThe birdies were flying from tree to tree,\nThere was little to say, there was no conversation\nAs I stepped to the stage to pick up my degree,\nAnd the locusts sang off in the distance,\nYeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody,\nOh, the locusts sang off in the distance,\nYeah, the locusts sang and they were singing for me.\n\nI glanced into the chamber where the judges were talking,\nDarkness was everywhere, it smelled like a tomb.\nI was ready to leave, I was already walking,\nBut the next time I looked there was light in the room\nAnd the locusts sang, yeah, it give me a chill,\nOh, the locusts sang such a sweet melody,\nOh, the locusts sang that high, whining trill,\nYeah, the locusts sang and they were singing for me.\n\nOutside of the gates the trucks were unloading,\nThe weather was hot, a-nearly ninety degrees,\nThe man standing next to me, his head was exploding -\nWell, I was praying the pieces wouldn't fall on me!\nYeah, and the locusts sang off in the distance,\nYeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody,\nOh, the locusts sang off in the distance,\nAnd the locusts sang and they were singing for me.\n\nI put down my robe, I picked up my diploma,\nTook a hold of my sweetheart and away we did drive\nStraight for the hills, the black hills of Dakota -\nSure was glad to get out of there alive!\nAnd the locusts sang, well, it give me a chill,\nYeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody,\nAnd the locusts sang with that high, whining trill,\nYeah, the locusts sang and they were singing for me,\nSinging for me, well, singing for me."}
{"name": "Time Passes Slowly", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,\nWe set beside bridges and walk beside fountains,\nCatch the wild fishes that float through the stream -\nTime passes slowly when you're lost in a dream.\n\nOnce I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-looking,\nWe sat in her kitchen while her mama was cooking,\nStaring out the window to the stars high above -\nTime passes slow when you're searching for love.\n\nAin't no reason to go in a wagon to town,\nAin't no reason to go to the fair,\nAin't no reason to go up, ain't no reason to go down,\nAin't no reason to go anywhere.\n\nTime passes slowly up here in the daylight,\nStares straight ahead and tries so hard to stay right,\nLike the red rose of summer that blooms in the day\nTime passes slowly and fades away."}
{"name": "Went to See the Gypsy", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "I went to see the gypsy staying in a big hotel,\nHe smiled when he saw me coming and he said, \"Well, well, well.\"\nHis room was dark and crowded, lights were low and dim.\n\"How are you?\" he said to me, I said it back to him.\n\nI went down to the lobby to make a small call out,\nA pretty, dancing girl was there and she began to shout,\n\"Go on back to see the gypsy! He can move you from the rear,\nDrive you from your fear, bring you through the mirror -\nHe did it in Las Vegas and he can do it here!\"\n\nOutside the lights were shining on the river of tears,\nI watched them from the distance with the music in my ears.\nI went back to see the gypsy, it was nearly early dawn,\nThe gypsy's door was open wide, but the gypsy was gone\nAnd that pretty, dancing girl, she could not be found,\nSo, I watched that sun come rising from the little Minnesota town,\nFrom the little Minnesota town."}
{"name": "Winterlude", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Winterlude, Winterlude, oh, darling,\nWinterlude by the road tonight,\nTonight there will be no quarreling,\nEverything is gonna be alright.\nOh, I see by the angel beside me that love has a reason to shine,\nYou're the one I adore, come over here and give me more, Winterlude, this dude thinks you're fine.\n\nWinterlude, Winterlude, my little apple,\nWinterlude by the corn in the field,\nWinterlude, let's go down to the chapel,\nThen come back and cook up a meal.\nWell, come out when the skating rink glistens by the sun near the old crossroads sign,\nThe snow is so cold, but our love can be bold, Winterlude, this dude thinks you're fine.\n\nWinterlude, Winterlude, my little daisy,\nWinterlude by the telephone wire,\nWinterlude, it's making me lazy,\nCome on, sit by the logs in the fire.\nThe moonlight reflects from the window, where the snowflakes, they cover the sand,\nCome out tonight, everything'll be tight, Winterlude, this dude thinks you're grand."}
{"name": "If Dogs Run Free", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "If dogs run free, why not we\nAcross the swooping plain?\nMy ears hear a symphony\nOf two mules, trains, and rain.\nThe best is always yet to come - that's what they explain to me,\nJust do your thing, you'll be king if dogs run free.\n\nIf dogs run free, why not me\nAcross the swamp of time?\nMy mind weaves a symphony\nAnd tapestry of rhyme.\nOh, winds, which rush my tale to thee, so it may flow and be,\nTo each his own, it's all unknown if dogs run free.\n\nIf dogs run free, then what must be\nMust be and that is all.\nTrue love can make a blade of grass\nStand up straight and tall,\nIn harmony with the cosmic sea, true love needs no company:\nIt can cure the soul, it can make it whole if dogs run free."}
{"name": "New Morning", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Can't you hear that rooster crowing?\nRabbit running down across the road,\nUnderneath the bridge where the water flowed through,\nSo happy just to see you smile underneath the sky of blue\nOn this new morning, new morning,\nOn this new morning with you.\n\nCan't you hear that motor turning?\nAutomobile coming into style,\nComing down the road for a country mile or two,\nSo happy just to see you smile underneath the sky of blue\nOn this new morning, new morning,\nOn this new morning with you.\n\nThe night passed away so quickly,\nIt always does when you're with me.\n\nCan't you feel that sun a-shining?\nGroundhog running by the country stream,\nThis must be the day that all of my dreams come true,\nSo happy just to be alive underneath the sky of blue\nOn this new morning, new morning,\nOn this new morning with you.\n\nSo happy just to be alive underneath the sky of blue\nOn this new morning, new morning,\nOn this new morning with you.\n\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning,\nNew morning."}
{"name": "Sign on the Window", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Sign on a window says \"Lonely\",\nSign on a door said \"No Company Allowed\",\nSign on a street says \"You Don't Own Me\",\nSign on a porch says \"Three's a Crowd\",\nSign on a porch says that \"Three's a Crowd\".\n\nHer and her boyfriend went to California,\nHer and her boyfriend done changed their tune.\nMy best friend said, \"Now, didn't I warn you?\nBrighton girls are like the moon,\nBrighton girls are like the moon.\"\n\nLooks like a-nothing but rain,\nSure gonna be wet tonight on Main Street,\nHope that it don't sleet.\n\nBuild me a cabin in Utah,\nMarry me a wife, catch rainbow trout,\nHave a bunch of kids who call me \"Pa\" -\nThat must be what it's all about,\nThat must be what it's all about."}
{"name": "One More Weekend", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Slipping and sliding like a weasel on the run,\nI'm looking good to see you, yeah, and we can have some fun -\nOne more weekend, one more weekend with you,\nOne more weekend, one more weekend'll do.\n\nCome on down to my ship, honey, ride on deck,\nWe'll fly it over the ocean just like you suspect -\nOne more weekend, one more weekend with you,\nOne more weekend, one more weekend'll do.\n\nWe'll fly the night away,\nHang out the whole next day -\nThings will be OK, you wait and see.\nWe'll go someplace unknown,\nLeave all the children home -\nHoney, why not go alone, just you and me?\n\nComing and going like a rabbit in the wood,\nI'm happy just to see you, yeah, looking so good -\nOne more weekend, one more weekend with you,\nOne more weekend, one more weekend'll do, yes, you will!\n\nLike a needle in a haystack, I'm gonna find you yet,\nYou're the sweetest, gone mama that this boy's ever gonna get -\nOne more weekend, one more weekend with you,\nOne more weekend, one more weekend'll do."}
{"name": "The Man in Me", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "The man in me will do nearly any task\nAnd as for compensation there's a-little he would ask -\nTake a woman like you to get through to the man in me.\n\nStorm clouds are raging all around my door,\nI think to myself I might not take it anymore -\nTake a woman like your kind to find the man in me.\n\nBut, oh, what a wonderful feeling\nJust to know that you are near,\nIt sets my a-heart a-reeling\nFrom my toes up to my ears.\n\nThe man in me will hide sometimes to keep from being seen,\nBut that's just because he doesn't wanna turn into some machine -\nTake a woman like you to get through to the man in me."}
{"name": "Three Angels", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Three angels up above the street,\nEach one playing a horn,\nDressed in green robes with wings that stick out,\nThey've been there since Christmas morn.\nThe wildest cat from Montana passes by in a flash,\nThen a lady in a bright orange dress,\nOne U-Haul trailer, a truck with no wheels,\nThe Tenth Avenue bus going west.\nThe dogs and pigeons fly up and they flutter around,\nA man with a badge skips by,\nThree fellas crawling on their way back to work,\nNobody stops to ask why.\nThe bakery truck stops outside of that fence\nWhere the angels stand high on the poles,\nThe driver peeks out, trying to find one face\nIn this concrete world full of souls.\nThe angels play on their horns all day,\nThe whole earth, in progression, seems to pass by,\nBut does anyone hear the music they play?\nDoes anyone even try?"}
{"name": "Father of Night", "album": "New Morning", "album_year": "1970", "text": "Father of night, father of day,\nFather who taketh the darkness away,\nFather who teacheth the bird to fly,\nBuilder of rainbows up in the sky,\nFather of loneliness and pain,\nFather of love and father of rain.\n\nFather of day, father of night,\nFather of black, father of white,\nFather who build the mountain so high,\nWho shapeth the cloud up in the sky,\nFather of time and father of dreams,\nFather who turneth the rivers and streams.\n\nFather of grain, father of wheat,\nFather of cold and father of heat,\nFather of air and father of trees,\nWho dwells in our hearts and our memories,\nFather of minutes, father of days,\nFather of whom we most solemnly praise."}
{"name": "Watching the River Flow", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "What's the matter with me? I don't have much to say,\nDaylight sneaking through the window and I'm still in this all-night cafe.\nWalking to and fro beneath the moon out to where the trucks are rolling slow\nTo sit down on this bank of sand and watch the river flow.\n\nWish I was back in the city instead of this old bank of sand\nWith the sun beating down over the chimney-tops and the one I love so close at hand.\nIf I had wings and I could fly, I know where I would go,\nBut right now I'll just sit here so contentedly and watch the river flow.\n\nPeople disagreeing on just about everything, yeah, makes you stop and wonder why,\nWhy only yesterday I saw somebody on the street who just couldn't help but cry;\nOh, but this old river keeps on rolling, though,\nNo matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow\nAnd, as long as it does, I'll just sit here and watch the river flow.\n\nPeople disagreeing everywhere you look, makes you wanna stop and read a book,\nWhy only yesterday I saw somebody on the street that was a-really shook;\nWell, but this old river keeps on rolling, though,\nNo matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow\nAnd, as long as it does, I'll just sit here and watch the river flow,\nWatch the river flow,\nWatching the river flow,\nWatching the river flow,\nBut I'll just sit down on this bank of sand and watch the river flow."}
{"name": "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIf'n you don't know by now.\nAnd it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe -\nIt'll never do, somehow.\nWhen your rooster crows at the break of dawn,\nLook out your window and I'll be gone.\nYou're the reason I'm traveling on,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nThe light I never knowed.\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe -\nI'm on the dark side of the road.\nBut I wish there was something you would do or say\nTo try and make me change my mind and stay.\nBut we never did too much talking, anyway.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo, it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal,\nLike you never done before.\nAnd it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal -\nI can't hear you anymore.\nI'm thinking and wondering, walking down the road.\nI once loved a woman - a child, I am told.\nI give her my heart, but she wanted my soul.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo long, honey babe.\nWhere I'm bound I can't tell.\nGoodbye's too good a word, babe,\nSo I'll just say \"Fare thee well\".\nI ain't saying you treated me unkind.\nYou coulda done better, but I don't mind.\nYou just kinda wasted my precious time,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nUntil the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his--his hands are clean\nAnd you're the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach for you in the night.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Oh, the rag-man draws circles up and down the block.\nI'd ask him what the matter was, but I know that he don't talk.\nAnd the ladies treat me kindly and they furnish me with tape,\nBut deep inside my heart I know I can't escape.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nWell, Shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells\nSpeaking to some French girl, who says she knows me well.\nAnd I would send a message to find out if she's talked,\nBut the post office's been stolen and the mailbox is locked.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nMona tried to tell me to stay away from the train line.\nShe said that all the railroad men just drink up your blood like wine.\nAnd I said, \"Oh, I didn't know that, but then again there's only one I've met\nAnd he just smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nGrandpa died last week and now he's buried in the rocks,\nBut everybody still talks about how badly they were shocked.\nBut me, I expected it to happen, I knew he'd lost control\nWhen I--he built a fire on Main Street and shot it full of holes.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the senator came down here showing everyone his gun,\nHanding out free tickets to the wedding of his son.\nAnd me, I nearly got busted - and wouldn't it be my luck\nTo get caught without a ticket and be discovered beneath a truck?\nOh, mama, is this really the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the teen-preacher looked so baffled when I asked him why he dressed\nWith twenty pounds of headlines stapled to his chest.\nBut he cursed me when I proved to him. Then I whispered and said, \"Not even you can hide.\nYou see, you're just like me. I hope you're satisfied.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the rain-man gave me two cures, then he said, \"Jump right in.\"\nThe one was Texas medicine. The other was just railroad gin.\nAnd like a fool I mixed 'em and it strangled up my mind\nAnd now people just get uglier and I have no sense of time.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nWhen Ruthie says come see her in her honky-tonk lagoon,\nWhere I can watch her waltz for free 'neath her Panamanian moon.\nAnd I say, \"Aw, come on, now, you know you know about my debutante.\"\nAnd she says, \"Your debutante just knows what you need, but I know what you want.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end,\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the bricks lay on Grand Street, where the neon madmen climb.\nThey all fall there so perfectly - it all seems so well-timed.\nAnd here I sit so patiently waiting to find out what price\nYou have to pay to get out of going through all these things twice.\nOh, mama, is this really the end,\nTo be stuck here inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?"}
{"name": "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Close your eyes, close the door.\nYou don't have to worry any more.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nShut the light, shut the shade.\nYou don't have to be afraid.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nWell, that mockingbird's gonna sail away - we're gonna forget it.\nThat big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon, but we're gonna let it. You won't regret it.\nKick your shoes off, do not fear.\nBring that bottle over here.\nI'll be your baby tonight."}
{"name": "All I Really Want to Do", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "I ain't looking to compete with you,\nBeat or cheat or mistreat you,\nSimplify you, classify you,\nDeny, defy, or crucify you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nNo, and I ain't looking to fight with you,\nFrighten you or up-tighten you,\nDrag you down or drain you down,\nChain you down or bring you down.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI ain't looking to block you up,\nShock or knock or lock you up,\nAnalyze you, categorize you,\nFinalize you or advertise you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna straight-face you,\nRace or chase you, track or trace you,\nOr disgrace you or displace you,\nOr define you or confine you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna meet your kin,\nMake you spin or do you in,\nOr select you or dissect you,\nOr inspect you or reject you.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't wanna fake you out,\nTake or shake or forsake you out,\nI ain't looking for you to feel like me,\nSee like me or be like me.\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you."}
{"name": "My Back Pages", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Crimson flames tied through my ears,\nRolling, high-and-mighty traps\nPounced with fire on flaming roads,\nUsing ideas as my maps.\n\"We'll meet on edges soon,\" said I,\nProud 'neath heated brow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nHalf-wracked prejudice leaped forth.\n\"Rip down all hate!\" I screamed.\nLies that life is black-and-white\nSpoke from my skull, I dreamed,\nRomantic facts of musketeers\nFoundationed deep somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nGirls' faces formed the forward path\nFrom phony jealousy\nTo memorizing politics\nOf ancient history,\nFlung down by corpse evangelists,\nUnthought of, though, somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nA self-ordained professor's tongue,\nToo serious to fool,\nSpouted out that liberty\nIs just equality in school.\n\"Equality\". I spoke the word\nAs if a wedding vow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nIn a soldier's stance I aimed my hand\nAt the mongrel dogs who teach,\nFearing not I'd become my enemy\nIn the instant that I preach,\nMy existence led by confusion boats,\nMutiny from stern to bow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now.\n\nYes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats,\nToo noble to neglect,\nDeceived me into thinking\nI had something to protect.\nGood and bad, I define these terms\nQuite clear. no doubt, somehow.\nAh, but I was so much older then,\nI'm younger than that now."}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain.\nI got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane.\nIt's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nWell, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime.\nHe asks you with a grin if you're having a good time;\nThen he fines you every time you slam the door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nWell, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks,\nHis bedroom window, it is made out of bricks.\nThe National Guard stands around his door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nWell, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody says she's the brains behind pa.\nShe's 68, but she says she's 54.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I try my best to be just like I am,\nBut everybody wants you to be just like them.\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave and I just get bored.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more."}
{"name": "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here with You", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Throw my ticket out the window.\nThrow my suitcase out there too.\nThrow my troubles out the door, I don't need them anymore\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.\n\nI should have left this town this morning,\nBut it was more than I could do.\nOh, your love comes on so strong and I've waited all day long\nFor tonight when I'll be staying here with you.\n\nIs it really any wonder,\nThe love that a stranger might receive?\nYou cast your spell and I went under.\nI find it so difficult to leave.\nI can hear that whistle blowing.\nI see that stationmaster too.\nIf there's a poor boy on the street, then let him have my seat\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.\n\nThrow my ticket out the window.\nThrow my suitcase out there too.\nThrow my troubles out the door, I don't need them anymore\n'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you."}
{"name": "She Belongs to Me", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe can take the dark out of the nighttime and paint the daytime black.\n\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nBut you will wind up peeking through her keyhole down upon your knees.\n\nShe never stumbles, she's got no place to fall,\nShe never stumbles, she's got no place to fall,\nShe's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.\n\nShe wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.\n\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nFor Halloween buy her a trumpet and for Christmas give her a drum."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "\"There must be some way out of here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo)", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Well, everybody's building their boats,\nSome are building monuments, others jotting down notes,\nEverybody's in despair, every girl and boy,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna jump for joy.\nOh, come all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nWhoa! and--well, I can do just like the rest, you know, I like my sugar sweet,\nBut jumping Qs and making haste, you know, it ain't my cup of meat.\nEverybody's out there feeding the pigeons out on the limb,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, the pigeons gonna run to him.\nWell, come all without, come all within,\nYeah, you'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nPlay that guitar now!\n\nCat's moo and calf's meow, you know, I--I can recite them all,\nTell me where it a-hurts you, honey, and I'll tell you who to call.\nNobody can get any sleep - you know, there's someone on everybody's toes;\nQuinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna wanna doze.\nOh, come all without, yeah, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nWhoa, come all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!"}
{"name": "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter-time too\nAnd your gravity fails and negativity don't pull you through,\nDon't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue,\nThey got some hungry women there and they really make a mess outta you.\n\nNow, if you see Saint Annie, please tell her \"Thanks a lot\",\nI cannot move, my fingers are all in a knot.\nI don't have the strength to get up and take another shot\nAnd my best friend, my doctor, won't even say what it is I've got.\n\nSweet Melinda, the peasants call her the \"Goddess of Gloom\",\nShe speaks good English and she invites you up into her room\nAnd you're so kind and careful not to go to her too soon\nAs she takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon.\n\nUp on Housing Project Hill it's either fortune or fame,\nYou must pick one or the other though neither of them are to be what they claim.\nIf you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came\nBecause the cops don't need you and, man, they expect the same.\n\nNow, all the authorities, they just stand around and boast\nHow they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into leaving his post\nAnd picking up Angel, who just arrived here from the coast,\nWho looked so fine at first, but left looking just like a ghost.\n\nI started out on burgundy, but soon hit the harder stuff,\nEverybody said they'd stand behind me when the game got rough,\nBut the joke was on me, there was nobody even there to bluff.\nI'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough."}
{"name": "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd where have you been, my darling young one?\nI've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,\nI've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,\nI've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,\nI've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,\nI've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you see, my darling young one?\nI saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,\nI saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,\nI saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping,\nI saw a room full of men with their hammers bleeding,\nI saw a white ladder all covered with water,\nI saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,\nI saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nWhat did you hear, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you hear, my darling young one?\nI heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warning,\nI heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,\nI heard one hundred drummers whose hands were blazing,\nI heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening,\nI heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing,\nI heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,\nI heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you meet, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd who did you meet, my darling young one?\nI met a young child beside a dead pony,\nI met a white man who walked a black dog,\nI met a young woman whose body was burning,\nI met a young girl - she gave me a rainbow,\nI met one man who was wounded in love,\nI met another man who was wounded in hatred,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall.\n\nAnd what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what'll you do now, my darling young one?\nI'm going back out 'fore the rain starts falling,\nI'll walk to the depths of the deepest, dark forest,\nWhere the people are many and their hands are all empty,\nWhere the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,\nWhere the home in the valley meets the damp, dirty prison\nAnd the executioner's face is always well-hidden,\nWhere hunger is ugly, where the souls are forgotten,\nWhere black is the color, where none is the number,\nAnd I'll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it,\nAnd reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,\nAnd I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking,\nBut I'll know my song well before I start singing,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's gonna fall."}
{"name": "If Not for You", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "If not for you,\nBabe, I couldn't find the door,\nCouldn't even see the floor,\nI'd be sad and blue,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nBabe, I'd lay awake all night,\nWait for the morning light\nTo shine in through,\nBut it would not be new,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nI'd be lost if not for you and you know it's true.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nOh, what would I do if not for you?\n\nIf not for you,\nWinter would have no spring,\nI couldn't hear the robin sing,\nI just wouldn't have a clue,\nAnyway, it wouldn't ring true,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you."}
{"name": "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last,\nBut whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,\nYonder stands your orphan with his gun,\nCrying like a fire in the sun.\nLook out, the saints are coming through\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nThe highway is for gamblers, better use your sense,\nTake what you have gathered from coincidence,\nThe empty-handed painter from your streets\nIs drawing crazy patterns on your sheets,\nThe sky too is folding under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nAll your seasick sailors, they're all rowing home,\nYour own empty-handed army is all going home,\nYour lover, who just walked out your door,\nHas taken all his blankets from the floor,\nThe carpet too is moving under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nLeave your stepping-stones behind, there's something that calls for you,\nForget the dead you've left, they will not follow you,\nThe vagabond who's rapping at your door\nIs standing in the clothes that you once wore.\nStrike another match, go start anew,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue."}
{"name": "Tomorrow Is a Long Time", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "If today was not a crooked highway,\nIf tonight was not a crooked trail,\nIf tomorrow wasn't such a long time,\nThen \"lonesome\" would mean nothing to you at all.\nYes, and only if my own true love was waiting,\nIf I could hear her heart a-softly pounding,\nYes, and only if she was lying by me,\nI'd lie in my bed once again.\n\nI can't see my reflection in the water,\nI can't speak the sounds to show no pain,\nI can't hear the echo of my footsteps\nOr remember the sounds of my own name.\nYes, and only if my own true love was waiting\nAnd if I could only hear her heart a-softly pounding,\nYes, and only if she was lying by me,\nThen I'd lie in my bed once again.\n\nThere's beauty in that silver, singing river,\nThere's beauty in that rainbow in the sky,\nBut none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty\nThat I remember in my true love's eyes.\nYes, and only if my own true love was waiting,\nIf I could only hear her heart a-softly pounding,\nYes, and only if she was lying by me -\nAnd I'd lie in my bed once again."}
{"name": "When I Paint My Masterpiece", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,\nAncient footprints are everywhere,\nYou could almost think that you're seeing double\nOn a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs.\nGot to hurry on back to my hotel room,\nWhere I've got me a date with Botticelli's niece -\nYep, she promised that she'd be right there with me\nWhen I paint my masterpiece.\n\nOh, the hours that I've spent inside the Colosseum,\nDodging lions and wasting time.\nOh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see 'em -\nYes, it sure has been a long, hard climb.\nTrain wheels running through the back of my memory\nAs the daylight hours do increase,\nSomeday everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody\nWhen I paint my masterpiece.\n\nI left Rome and landed in Brussels\nWith a picture of a tall oak tree by my side.\nClergymen in uniform and young girls pulling bustles,\nEveryone was there and nobody tried to hide.\nNewspapermen eating candy,\nHad to be held down by big police;\nSomeday, everything is gonna be different\nWhen I paint my masterpiece."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "They say every man must need protection,\nThey say every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSome place so high above the wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nDown here next to me in this lonely crowd\nThere's a man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him cry so loud,\nCalling out that he's been framed.\nYeah, I see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Clouds so swift, the rain falling in, gonna see a movie called \"Gunga Din\" -\nPack up your money, pull up your tent, McGuinn, you ain't a-going nowhere!\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nGenghis Khan and his brother, Don, couldn't keep on keeping on:\n\"We'll climb that bridge after it's dawn, after we're way past it.\"\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nBuy me some rings and a gun that sings, a flute that toots and a bee that stings,\nSky that cries and a bird that flies, a fish that walks and a dog that talks.\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!"}
{"name": "Down in the Flood", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, Vol. II", "album_year": "1971", "text": "Crash on the levee, mama, water's gonna overflow,\nSwamp's gonna rise and no boat's gonna row.\nYou can train on down to Williams Point,\nYou can bust your feet, you can rock this joint,\nBut, oh, mama, you gonna miss your best friend now,\nYou gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow.\n\nNow, don't you try and move me, mama, you just gonna lose,\nThere's been a crash on the levee and, mama, you been refused.\nWell, it's king for king and it's queen for queen,\nIt's gonna be the meanest flood that anybody's ever seen,\nOh, mama, you gonna miss your best friend now,\nYou gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow.\n\nWell, the high tide's rising, mama, don't you let me down,\nPack up your suitcase, mama, don't you make a sound.\nWell, it's sugar for sugar and it's salt for salt,\nIf you go down in the flood, it's gonna be your fault.\nOh, mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?\nYou gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow."}
{"name": "Billy 1", "album": "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid", "album_year": "1973", "text": "There's guns across the river aiming at you,\nLawman on your trail, he'd like to catch you,\nBounty hunters, too, they'd like to get you -\nBilly, they don't like you to be so free.\n\nCamping out all night on the veranda,\nDealing cards till dawn in the hacienda,\nUp to Boot Hill they'd like to send you -\nBilly, don't you turn your back on me.\n\nPlaying around with some sweet senorita,\nInto her dark hall where she will lead you,\nTo the shadows of the Mesa she will greet you -\nBilly, you're so far away from home."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black cloud is coming down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "Billy 4", "album": "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid", "album_year": "1973", "text": "There's guns across the river 'bout to pound you,\nThere's a lawman on your trail like to surround you,\nBounty hunters are dancing all around you -\nBilly, they don't like you to be so free.\n\nCamping out all night on the veranda,\nWalking the streets down by the hacienda,\nUp to Boot Hill they'd like to send you -\nBilly, don't you turn your back on me.\n\nThere's mirrors inside the minds of crazy faces,\nBullet holes and rifles in their cases,\nThere's always one more notch in four more aces,\nBilly, and you're playing all alone.\n\nPlaying around with some sweet senorita,\nInto her dark chamber she will greet you,\nIn the shadows of the Mesa she will lead you,\nBilly, and you're going all alone.\n\nThey say that Pat Garrett's got your number,\nSo sleep with one eye open when you wonder\nIf every little sound just might be thunder,\nThunder from the barrel of his gun.\n\nThere's always another stranger sneaking glances,\nSome trigger-happy fool willing to take chances,\nSome old whore from San Pedro'll make advances,\nAdvances on your spirit and your soul.\n\nThe businessmen from Taos want you to go down,\nSo they've hired Mr. Garrett, he'll force you to slow down.\nBilly, don't it make you feel so low-down\nTo be hunted by the man who was your friend?\n\nSo, hang on to your woman if you've got one -\nRemember in El Paso once you shot one?\nI'll be in Santa Fe about one -\nBilly, you been running for so long.\n\nGypsy queens will play your grand finale\nWay down in some Tularosa alley,\nMaybe in La Rio Pecas valley -\nBilly, you're so far away from home,\nBilly, you're so far away from home,\nBilly, you're so far away from home."}
{"name": "Billy 7", "album": "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Spend the night with some sweet senorita,\nInto her dark hall where she will lead you,\nIn some lonesome shadow she might greet you -\nBilly, you're so doggone far away from home.\n\nThey say that Pat Garrett's got your number,\nSleep with one eye open when you slumber,\nEvery little sound just might be thunder,\nThunder from the barrel of his gun.\n\nMaybe you will find yourself tomorrow\nDrinking in some bar to hide your sorrow,\nSpending the time that you borrowed,\nFiguring a way to get back home."}
{"name": "Lily of the West", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "When first I came to Louisville some pleasure there to find,\nA damsel there from Lexington was pleasing to my mind,\nHer rosy cheeks, her ruby lips like arrows pierced my breast.\nThe name she bore was Flora, the Lily of the West.\n\nI courted lovely Flora some pleasure for to find,\nBut she turned unto another man, which so distressed my mind,\nShe robbed me of my liberty, deprived me of my rest.\nThen, go, my lovely Flora, the Lily of the West.\n\nWay down in yonder shady grove a man of high degree\nConversing with my Flora there - it seemed so strange to me -\nAnd the answer that she gave to him, it so did me oppress.\nI was betrayed by Flora, the Lily of the West.\n\nI stepped up to my rival, dagger in my hand,\nAnd seized him by the collar, boldly made him stand.\nDriven mad by desperation, I pierced him to the breast -\nAll this for lovely Flora, the Lily of the West.\n\nI had to stand my trial, I had to make my plea,\nThey placed me in the witness box and then commenced on me.\nAlthough she swore my life away, deprived me of my rest,\nStill I love my faithless Flora, the Lily of the West."}
{"name": "Can't Help Falling in Love", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Wise men say only fools rush in,\nBut I can't help falling in love with you.\nShall I stay, would it be a sin\nIf I can't help falling in love with you?\n\nLike a river flows surely to the sea,\nDarling, so it goes, some things were meant to be.\nTake my hand, take a-my whole life, too,\nFor I can't help falling in love with you.\n\nLike a river flows surely to the sea,\nDarling, so it goes, some things were meant to be.\nTake my hand, take a-my whole life, too,\nFor I can't help falling in love with you."}
{"name": "Sarah Jane", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "I got a wife and five little children,\nI'm gonna take a trip on the big McMillan.\nSarah Jane, Sarah Jane,\nAin't nothing to do but to set down and sing and rock about my Sarah Jane.\n\nThe boiler busted and the whistler squalled,\nThe captain gone through the hole in the wall.\nOh, Sarah Jane, Sarah Jane,\nAin't nothing to do but to set down and sing and rock about my Sarah Jane.\n\nThe engine gave a crack and the whistle gave a squall.\nThe engineer gone through the hole in the wall.\nSarah Jane, Sarah Jane,\nAin't nothing to do but to set down and sing and rock about my Sarah Jane.\n\nThe Yankee built boats to shoot them rebels,\nMy gun's steady, gonna hold it level.\nSarah Jane, Sarah Jane,\nAin't nothing to do but to set down and sing and rock about my Sarah Jane.\n\nI got a wife and five little children,\nI'm gonna take a trip on the big McMillan.\nSarah Jane, Sarah Jane,\nAin't nothing to do but to set down and sing and rock about my Sarah Jane."}
{"name": "The Ballad of Ira Hayes", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Gather 'round, you people, and a story I will tell\nAbout a brave, young Indian you should remember well\nFrom the tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and a peaceful band,\nThey farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona-land.\nDown their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed\nTill the white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed.\nNow, Ira's folks were hungry and their farms were crops of weeds,\nBut, when war came, he volunteered and forgot the white man's greed.\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war,\nYes, call him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.\n\nThey started up Iwo Jima hill two hundred and fifty men,\nBut only twenty-seven lived to walk back down that hill again\nAnd, when the fight was over and Old Glory raised,\nOne of the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes.\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war,\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.\n\nNow, Ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land,\nHe was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand,\nBut he was just a Pima Indian - no money, no crops, no chance -\nAnd at home nobody cared what Ira done and the wind did the Indians' dance.\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war,\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.\n\nAnd Ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home -\nThey let him raise the flag there and lower it like you'd throw a dog a bone.\nHe died drunk early one morning alone in the land he'd fought to save,\nTwo inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes.\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war,\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war.\n\nYes, call him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, but his land is still as dry\nAnd his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where Ira died.\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war,\nCall him \"Drunken\" Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,\nNot the whiskey-drinking Indian or the marine who went to war."}
{"name": "Mr. Bojangles", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "I knew a man, Bojangles, and he'd dance for you in worn-out shoes -\nSilver hair, ragged shirt, and baggy pants, that old soft shoe.\nHe'd jump so high, he'd jump so high, then he'd lightly touch down.\nMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance!\n\nI met him in a cell in New Orleans - I was down and out,\nHe looked to me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out.\nHe talked of life, he talked of life, laughed and slapped his leg a step.\nMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance!\n\nHe said the name, Bojangles, and he danced a lick all across the cell,\nHe grabbed his pants for a better stance, oh, he jumped so high and clicked up his heels.\nHe let go a laugh, he let go a laugh, shook back his clothes all around.\nMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance! Yeah, dance!\n\nHe danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the South,\nHe spoke with tears of fifteen years of how his dog and him just traveled all about.\nHis dog up and died, he up and died, and after twenty years he still grieves.\nMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance!\n\nHe said, \"I dance now at every chance at honky-tonks for drinks and tips,\nBut most of the time I spend behind these county bars 'cause I drinks a bit.\"\nHe shook his head and then he shook his head, I heard someone ask him, \"Please,\nMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance!\nDance!\nMr. Bojangles, dance!\""}
{"name": "Mary Ann", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Oh, fare thee well, my own true love,\nFare thee well but for a while,\nThe ship is waiting and the wind blows high\nAnd I am bound away for the sea, Mary Ann.\n\nTen thousand miles away from home,\nTen thousand miles or more -\nThe sea may freeze and the earth may burn\nIf I never no more return to you, Mary Ann.\n\nOh, don't you see that crow fly high?\nShe'll surely turn to white,\nIf ever I prove false to you,\nLet the day turn to night, my dear Mary Ann.\n\nOh, if I had a flask of gin and sugar here for two\nAnd a great, big bowl for to mix it in,\nI'd pour a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann,\nYes, I'd pour a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann."}
{"name": "Big Yellow Taxi", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot,\nA pink hotel, a boutique, and a swinging, hot spot.\nDon't it always go to show\nYou never know what you got till it's gone?\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.\n\nThey took all the trees, they put 'em in a tree museum,\nThey charge the people a dollar and a half just to see 'em.\nDon't it always go to show\nYou never know what you got till it's gone?\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.\n\nHey, farmer, farmer, put away that DDT,\nGive me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees please.\nDon't it always a-go to show\nYou never know what you got till it's gone?\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.\n\nLate last night I heard my screen door slam,\nA big, yellow bulldozer took away the house and land.\nDon't it always a-go to show\nYou never know what you got till it's gone?\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot,\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot,\nThey paved paradise, they put up a parking lot\nPaved paradise, they put up a parking lot."}
{"name": "A Fool Such As I", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Now and then there's a fool such as I.\nPardon me if I'm sentimental when we say goodbye,\nDon't be angry--don't be angry with me should I cry.\nWhen you're gone, I will dream a little dream as years go by,\nNow and then there's a fool--a fool such as I.\n\nNow and then there's a fool such as I am over you,\nYou taught me how to love and now you say that we are through.\nI'm a fool, but I love you, dear, yes, I will until the day I die,\nNow and then there's a fool such as I.\n\nPardon me--pardon me if I'm sentimental when we say goodbye,\nDon't be angry--don't be angry with me should I cry.\nWhen you're gone--when you're gone, I will dream a little, I will dream as years go by,\nNow and then--now and then there's a fool--a fool such as I.\n\nNow and then there's a fool--a fool such as I am over you,\nYou taught me how to love and now you say that we are through.\nI'm a fool, yes, but I love you, dear, I'll love you, dear, until the day--until the day I die,\nNow and then--now and then there's a fool--a fool such as I,\nNow and then there's a fool--a fool such as I,\nNow and then there's a fool such as I."}
{"name": "Spanish Is the Loving Tongue", "album": "Dylan", "album_year": "1973", "text": "Broke her heart, lost my own,\nAdios, mi corazon.\n\nSpanish is the loving tongue,\nSoft as music, light as spring.\nIt was a girl I learned it from,\nLiving down Sonora way.\nWell, I don't look much like a lover,\nStill I say her love-words over\nMostly when I'm all alone,\nMi amor, mi corazon.\n\nHaven't seen her since that night -\nI can't cross the line, you know,\nThey want me for a gambling fight.\nLike as not, it's better so,\nStill I've always kind of missed her\nSince that last, sad night I kissed her,\nBroke her heart, lost my own,\nAdios, mi corazon,\nBroke her heart, lost my own,\nAdios, mi corazon,\nAdios, mi corazon."}
{"name": "On a Night Like This", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "On a night like this I'm so glad you came around,\nHold on to me so tight and heat up some coffee grounds.\nWe got much to talk about and much to reminisce,\nIt sure is right on a night like this.\n\nOn a night like this I'm so glad you're here to stay,\nHold on to me, pretty miss, and say you'll never go away to stray.\nRun your fingers down my spine and bring me a touch of bliss,\nIt sure feels right on a night like this.\n\nOn a night like this I can't get any sleep,\nThe air is so cold outside and the snow's so deep.\nBuild a fire, throw on logs, and listen to it hiss,\nAnd let it burn, burn, burn, burn on a night like this.\n\nPut your body next to mine and keep me company,\nThere is plenty of room for all, so please don't elbow me.\nLet the four winds blow around this old cabin door -\nIf I'm not too far off, I think we did this once before.\nThere's more frost on the window glass with each new, tender kiss,\nBut it sure feels right on a night like this."}
{"name": "Going, Going, Gone", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "I've just reached a place where the willow don't bend -\nThere's not much more to be said, it's the top of the end,\nI'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nI'm closing the book on the pages and the text\nAnd I don't really care, ooh, what happens next,\nI'm just going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nI been hanging on the threads, I been playing it straight,\nNow I've just got to cut loose before it gets late,\nSo I'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nGrandma said, \"Boy, go and follow your heart\nAnd you'll be fine at the end of the line:\nAll that's gold doesn't shine,\nDon't you and your one true love ever part.\"\nI been walking the road, I've been living on the edge,\nNow I've just got to go before I get to the ledge,\nSo I'm going, I'm just going, I'm gone."}
{"name": "Tough Mama", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Tough mama, meat shaking on your bone,\nI'm gonna go down to the river and get some stone.\nSister's on the highway with that steel-driving crew,\nPapa's in the big house, his working days are through,\nTough mama, can I blow a little smoke on you?\n\nDark beauty, won't you move over and give me some room?\nIt's my duty to bring you down to the field where the flowers bloom.\nAshes in the furnace, dust on the rise,\nYou came through it all the way, flying through the skies,\nDark beauty, with that long night's journey in your eyes.\n\nSweet goddess, born of a blinding light and a changing wind,\nNow, don't be modest, you know who you are and where you been.\nJack the Cowboy went up north, he's buried in the past,\nLone Wolf went out drinking - that was over pretty fast,\nSweet goddess, your perfect stranger's coming on in at last.\n\nSilver angel, with the badge of the lonesome road written in your sleeve,\nI'd be grateful if this golden ring you'd receive.\nToday on the countryside it was a-hotter than a crotch,\nI stood alone upon the ridge and all I did was watch -\nSweet goddess, must be time to carve another notch.\n\nI'm crestfallen, a world of illusions at my door,\nI ain't hauling any of my lambs to the marketplace anymore.\nPrison walls are crumbling down, there is no end in sight,\nI've gained some recognition, but I lost my appetite -\nSweet beauty, meet me at the border late tonight."}
{"name": "Hazel", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Hazel, dirty-blonde hair,\nI wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with you anywhere,\nYou got something I want plenty of,\nOoh, a little touch of your love.\n\nHazel, stardust in your eye,\nYou're going somewhere and so am I,\nI'd give you the sky high above,\nOoh, for the touch of your love.\n\nOh, no, I don't need any reminder\nTo know how much I really care,\nBut it's just making me blinder and blinder\nBecause I'm up on a hill and still you're not there.\n\nHazel, you called and I came,\nNow, don't make me play this waiting-game.\nYou got something I want plenty of,\nOoh, a little touch of your love."}
{"name": "Something There Is about You", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Something there is about you that strikes a match in me -\nIs it the way your body moves or is it the way your hair blows free?\nOr is it because you remind me of something that used to be,\nSomething that's crossed over from another century?\n\nThought I'd shaken the wonder and the phantoms of my youth -\nRainy days on the Great Lakes, walking the hills of old Duluth,\nThere was me and Danny Lopez, cold eyes, black nights, and then there was Ruth.\nSomething there is about you that brings back a long-forgotten truth.\n\nSuddenly I found you and the spirit in me sings,\nDon't have to look no further - you're the soul of many things.\nI could say that I'd be faithful - I could say it in one sweet, easy breath,\nBut to you that would be cruelty and to me it surely would be death.\n\nSomething there is about you that moves with style and grace.\nI was in a whirlwind, now I'm in some better place,\nMy hand's on the saber and you've picked up on the baton,\nSomething there is about you that I can't quite put my finger on."}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,\nMay you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "Forever Young (2)", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful and may your song always be sung\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "Dirge", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "I hate myself for loving you and the weakness that it showed,\nYou were just a painted face on a trip down Suicide Road.\nThe stage was set, the lights went out all around the old hotel,\nI hate myself for loving you and I'm glad the curtain fell.\n\nI hate that foolish game we played and the need that was expressed\nAnd the mercy that you showed to me - who ever would have guessed?\nI went out on Lower Broadway and I felt that place within,\nThat hollow place where martyrs weep and angels play with sin.\n\nHeard your songs of freedom and man, forever stripped,\nActing out his folly while his back is being whipped,\nLike a slave in orbit, he's beaten till he's tame\nAll for a moment's glory and it's a dirty, rotten shame.\n\nThere are those who worship loneliness, I'm not one of them:\nIn this age of fiberglass I'm searching for a gem.\nThe crystal ball upon the wall hasn't shown me nothing yet,\nI've paid the price of solitude, but at least I'm out of debt.\n\nI can't recall a useful thing you ever did for me\n'Cept pat me on the back one time when I was on my knee.\nWe stared into each other's eyes till one of us would break -\nNo use to apologize, what difference would it make?\n\nSo, sing your praise of progress and of the doom-machine,\nThe naked truth is still taboo whenever it can be seen.\nLady Luck, who shines on me, will tell you where I'm at,\nI hate myself for loving you, but I should get over that."}
{"name": "You Angel You", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "You angel, you, you're as f--got me under your wing,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk - I feel I could almost sing.\n\nYou angel, you, you're as fine as anything's fine,\nI just walk and watch you talk with your memory on my mind.\n\nAnd, though I can't sleep at night for trying,\nYes, I never did feel this way before,\nNever did get up and walk the floor,\nIf this is love, then give me more and more and more and more and more.\n\nYou angel, you, you're as fine as can be,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk is the way it oughtta be.\n\nAnd, though I can't sleep at night for trying,\nNever did feel this way before,\nNever did get up and walk the floor,\nIf this is love, then give me more and more and more and more.\n\nYou angel, you, you got me under your wing,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk, I swear, it would make me sing."}
{"name": "Never Say Goodbye", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Twilight on the frozen lake, a north wind about to break\nOn footprints in the snow and silence down below.\n\nYou're beautiful beyond words,\nYou're beautiful to me,\nYou could make me cry, never say goodbye,\nBecause my dreams are made of iron and steel\nWith a big bouquet of the roses\nHanging down from the heavens to the ground.\n\nThe crashing waves roll over me\nAs I stand upon the sand\nAnd wait for you to come and grab hold of my hand.\n\nOh, baby, baby, baby blue,\nYou'll change your last name, too,\nYou've turned your hair to brown, love to see it hanging down."}
{"name": "Wedding Song", "album": "Planet Waves", "album_year": "1974", "text": "I love you more than ever, more than time and more than love,\nI love you more than money and more than the stars above,\nLove you more than madness, more than dreams upon the sea,\nI love you more than life itself, you mean that much to me.\n\nEver since you walked right in, the circle's been complete,\nI say goodbye to haunted rooms and faces in the street,\nTo the courtyards of the jester, which is hidden from the sun -\nI love you more than ever and I haven't yet begun.\n\nYou breathed on me and made my life a richer one to live,\nWhen I was deep in poverty, you taught me how to give,\nDried the tears up from my dreams and pulled me from the hole -\nI love you more than ever and it burns me to the soul.\n\nYou gave me babies, one, two, three - what is more? you saved my life,\nEye for eye and tooth for tooth, your love cuts like a knife,\nMy thoughts of you don't ever rest - they'd kill me if I lie,\nBut I'd sacrifice the world for you to watch my senses die.\n\nThe tune that is yours and mine to play upon this earth,\nWe'll play it out the best we know, whatever it is worth.\nWhat's lost is lost, we can't regain what went down in the flood,\nBut happiness to me is you and I love you more than blood.\n\nIt's never been my duty to remake the world at large,\nNor is it my intentions to sound a battle charge\n'Cause I love you more than all of that with a love that doesn't bend\nAnd, if there is eternity, I'll love you there again.\n\nOh, can't you see that you were born to stand by my side\nAnd I was born to be with you, you were born to be my bride?\nYou're the other half of what I am, you're the missing piece,\nAnd I love you more than ever with that love that doesn't cease.\n\nYou turn the tide on me each day and teach my eyes to see,\nJust being next to you is a natural thing for me\nAnd I could never let you go, no matter what goes on,\n'Cause I love you more than ever now that the past is gone."}
{"name": "Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "You say you love me and you're thinking of me, but you know you could be wrong,\nYou say you told me that you wanna hold me, but you know you're not that strong.\nI just can't do what I've done before,\nI just can't beg you anymore,\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nYou say you're shaking and you're always a-breaking, but you know how hard you try,\nYou say you're assuming that you're kind of a-hurting, but you know sometimes you lie.\nSometimes it gets so hard to care -\nIt can't be this way everywhere -\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nThe judge, he's holding a grudge and he's about to call on you,\nBut he's badly-built and he walks on stilts - watch out he don't fall on you.\n\nYou say you're sorry for telling me stories you know I believe are true,\nSay you got some other--other kind of lover and, yes, I believe you do.\nYou say my kisses aren't like his -\nYeah, and--well, I'm not gonna tell you why that is,\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell, who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have a-in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile,\nRight up until the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his a-hands are clean\nAnd you are the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile -\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it, too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach out for you in the dead of the night -\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "They'll stone you when you try to take a bath,\nStone you when you're walking on the path,\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your seat,\nStone you when you're walking on the street,\nYeah, but I wouldn't feel too all alone\nBecause everybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your car,\nStone you when you're standing at the bar,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking 'cross the floor,\nStone you when you're reaching for the door,\nBut I wouldn't feel too all alone\nBecause everybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're driving in your brain,\nStone you when you're waiting for a train,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking on the grass,\nStone you when you're trying to make a pass,\nBut I wouldn't feel too all alone\nBecause everybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you and they'll say that it's the end,\nThey'll stone you and they'll be back again,\nThey'll stone you when you try to be so brave,\nStone you when you're set down in your grave,\nBut I wouldn't feel too all alone\nBecause everybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nFeel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, wipe the blood from my face,\nI'm sick and tired of the war.\nGot a long, black feeling and it's hard to trace,\nFeel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black train is pulling on down,\nFeel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, take this badge off of me."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nNever weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it sure ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nMove lightly from the ledge, babe,\nA-move a-lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'll only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and maybe more -\nIt still ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, no, it sure ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back into the night, babe,\nEverything inside here is made of stone.\nA-there's a-nothing in here that's a-moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nPick you up every time you fall,\nSomeone to gather flowers constantly,\nAnd come every time you call,\nA lover for your life - a-but what more?\nAnd it still ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it sure ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "Ballad of a Thin Man", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand,\nSee somebody naked, you say, \"Who's that man?\"\nYou try so hard, but you don't understand\nWhat you're gonna say when you get home\n'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou raise up your head, say, \"Is this where it is?\"\nSomebody points to you and says, \"It's his.\"\nYou say, \"What's mine?\" Someone else says, \"Where what is?\"\nYou say, \"Oh, my God, am I here all alone?\"\nBut, something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in your ticket to go see the geek,\nWho walks up to you when he hears you speak,\nSays, \"How does it feel to be such a freak?\"\nYou say, \"Impossible!\" as he hands you the bone.\nAnd something is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou have many contacts all among the lumberjacks\nTo get you facts when someone attacks your imagination.\nNo one has any respect, anyway they expect\nYou to give your check to tax-deductible charity organizations.\n\nYou've been with professors, they've all liked your looks,\nWith great lawyers you've discussed lepers and crooks,\nYou've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books,\nYou're very well-read, it's well-known.\nBut still something's happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou crawl into the room like a camel and you frown,\nPut your eyes in your pocket and your nose in the ground.\nThere ought to be a law against you coming around,\nYou should be made to be wearing a telephone\n'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "They say everything can be replaced,\nThey say every distance is not near,\nSo I remember every face\nOf every man who put me here.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east.\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nThey say every man needs protection,\nThey say that every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSomewhere so high above this wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east.\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nNow yonder stands a man in this lonely crowd,\nA man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him shouting so loud,\nJust crying out that he was framed.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east.\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIf'n you don't know by now,\nIt ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIt don't matter, anyhow.\nWhen your rooster crows at the break of dawn,\nLook out your window and I'll be gone,\nYou're the reason I'm a-traveling on,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nWell, it ain't no use in a-turning on your light, babe,\nThe light I never knowed,\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nI'm on the dark side of the road.\nStill, I wish there were something you would do or say\nTo try and make me change a-my mind and stay,\nBut we never did too much talking anyway,\nSo don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nWell, it ain't no use in calling out my name, babe,\nLike you never did before,\nAnd it ain't no use in a-calling out my name, babe,\nI can't hear you anymore.\nI'm a-thinking and wondering, walking down the road,\nI once loved a woman - a child, I'm told,\nI give her my heart, but she wanted my soul,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo, I'm a-walking down that long, lonesome road, babe,\nWhere I'm bound I can't tell,\nBut goodbye's a-too good a word, babe,\nSo I'll just say, \"Fare thee well.\"\nI ain't saying you treated me unkind,\nYou coulda done better, but I don't mind,\nYou just kinda wasted my precious time,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "A-nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain,\nEverybody knows baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows\nHave a-fallen from her curls.\nA-she takes just like a woman\nAnd she aches just like a woman\nAnd she wakes a-just like a woman,\nYeah, but she breaks a-just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend, yes, I believe I'll go see her again,\nA-nobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she sees finally that she's a-like all the rest\nIn her fog, with her amphetamine and her pearls.\nA-she takes just like a woman\nAnd she wakes just like a woman\nAnd she aches just like a woman,\nBut she breaks a-just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying there of thirst, so I came in here\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this a-pain in here,\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I a-just don't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nThen, when we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on a-that you knew me when\nI was a-hungry and it was your world.\nYou take just like a woman\nAnd you ache a-just like a woman\nAnd you make love just like a woman,\nBut you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Darkness at the break of noon\nShadows even the silver spoon,\nThe handmade blade, the child's balloon,\nEclipses both the sun and moon -\nTo understand you know too soon there is no sense in trying.\n\nPointed threats, they bluff with scorn\nAs suicide remarks are torn -\nFrom the fool's gold mouthpiece, the hollow horn\nPlays wasted words, proves to warn\nThat he not busy being born is a-busy dying.\n\nTemptation's page a-flies out the door,\nYou follow, find yourself at war,\nWatch waterfalls of pity roar,\nFeel to moan, but unlike before\nYou discover that you'd just be one more person crying.\n\nSo, don't fear if you hear\nThat foreign sound in your ear,\nIt's alright, ma, I'm only sighing.\n\nSome warn victory, some downfall,\nPrivate reasons - great or small -\nCan be seen in the eyes of those that call\nTo make all that should be killed to crawl\nWhile others say, \"Don't hate nothing at all except hatred.\"\n\nDisillusioned words like a-bullets bark\nAs human gods aim for their mark,\nMake everything from toy guns that spark\nTo flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark -\nEasy to see without looking too far not much is really sacred.\n\nWhile preachers preach of evil fates,\nTeachers teach that knowledge waits,\nCan lead to hundred-dollar plates,\nGoodness hides behind its gates,\nBut even the president of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked.\n\nAnd, though the rules of the road have been lodged,\nIt's people's games you got to dodge,\nBut it's alright, ma, I can make it.\n\nAdvertising signs that con\nYou into thinking you're the one\nThat can do what's a-never been done,\nThat can win what's a-never been won -\nMeantime life outside goes on all around you.\n\nYou lose yourself, you reappear,\nYou suddenly find you got nothing to fear,\nAlone you stand with nobody near\nWhen a trembling, distant voice, unclear,\nStartles your sleeping ears to hear someone thinks they really found you.\n\nA question in your nerves is lit,\nYet you know there is a-no answer fit\nTo satisfy, ensure you not to quit,\nKeep it in your mind and not forget\nThat it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to.\n\nAnd, though the masters make the rules\nFor the wise men and the fools,\nI got nothing, ma, to live up to.\n\nOld-lady judges watch people in pairs,\nLimited in sex they dare\nTo push fake morals, insult, and stare,\nMoney doesn't talk, it swears,\nObscenity - who really cares? - propaganda all is phony.\n\nWhile them that defend what they cannot see\nWith a killer's pride, security,\nIt blows their minds most bitterly,\nFor them that think death's honesty\nWon't fall upon 'em naturally, life sometimes must get lonely.\n\nMy eyes collide head-on with stuffed\nGraveyards, false goals, I scuff\nAt pettiness, which plays so rough,\nWalk upside-down inside handcuffs,\nKick my legs to crash it off,\nSay, \"Alright, I've had enough, what else can you show me?\"\n\nAnd, if my thought-dreams could be seen,\nThey'd probably put my head in a guillotine,\nBut it's alright, ma, it's life and life only."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "\"There must be some way outta here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no release.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour's getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "God said to Abraham, \"Kill me a son.\"\nAbe said, \"Man, you must be putting me on.\"\nGod said, \"No.\" Abe said, \"What?\"\nGod said, \"You can do what you want, Abe, but\nThe next time you see me coming you better run.\"\nAbe said, \"Where you want this killing done?\"\nGod said, \"Out on Highway 61.\"\n\nGeorgia Sam, he had a bloody nose,\nWelfare Department wouldn't give him no clothes.\nHe asked poor Howard, \"Where can I go?\"\nAnd Howard said, \"There's only one place I know.\"\nAnd Sam said, \"Well, tell me quick, man - I got to run!\"\nAnd Old Howard just pointed off with his gun:\n\"That way down Highway 61.\"\n\nWell, the--Mack the Finger said to Louis the King,\n\"I got forty red, white, and blue shoestrings\nAnd a thousand telephones that don't ring -\nDo you know where I can possibly get rid of these things?\"\nAnd Louis the King said, \"Let me think for a minute, son.\"\nAnd then, \"Yeah, I think it can be easily done:\nTake it on down to Highway 61.\"\n\nWell, the fifth daughter on the twelfth night\nTold her first own father that things weren't right:\n\"My complexion,\" she said, \" - much too white.\"\n\"Come on over here, girl, and step into this light - ahh, you're right,\nLet me tell the second mother this has been done.\"\nBut the second mother was with the seventh son\nAnd they were both out on Highway 61.\n\nThe roving gambler was a-very bored,\nTried to create a next world war.\nOhh, he found a promoter, nearly fell on the floor:\n\"No, I never did engage in this a-kinda thing before,\nBut, yes, I think it can be very easily done.\nWe'll just put some bleachers out in the sun,\nHave it on Highway 61.\""}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall\" - you thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out;\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging for your next meal -\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nYou gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it,\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd you find out now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Would you like to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nJust like a rolling stone?\n\nYou never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down to do tricks for you,\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat -\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he's taken everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nJust like a rolling stone?\n\nPrincess on the steeple and all pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts and things,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring down and pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used -\nA-go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse:\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose -\nYou're invisible, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nJust like a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "Before the Flood", "album_year": "1974", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must the white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nHow many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times must a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nAnd the answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nHow many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nThank you!\nGoodnight!"}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said our lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd I was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on my shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, I've paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when we first met, soon to be divorced,\nI helped her out of a jam, I guess, but I used a little too much force.\nWe drove that car as far as we could, abandoned it out west,\nSplit up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at me as I was a-walking away,\nI heard her say over my shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nI had a job in the Great North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut I never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nSo I drifted down to New Orleans where I lucky was to be employed,\nWorking for a while on a fishing boat right outside of Delacroix,\nBut all the while I was alone, the past was close behind,\nI seen a lot of women but she never escaped my mind and I just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"Don't I know your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"I thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the fifteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nThen he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it finally--the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, a-heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Simple Twist of Fate", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "They sat together in the park as the evening sky grew dark,\nShe looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones,\n'Twas then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight\nAnd watched out for a simple twist of fate.\n\nThey walked along by the old canal, a little confused - I remember well -\nAnd stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burning bright,\nHe felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train,\nMoving with a simple twist of fate.\n\nA saxophone someplace far off played as she was walking on by the arcade,\nAs the light burst through a beat-up shade, where he was waking up,\nShe dropped a coin into the cup above a blind man at the gate\nAnd forgot about a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe woke up, the room was bare, he didn't see her anywhere,\nHe told himself he didn't care, pushed the window open wide,\nFelt that emptiness inside to which he just could not relate,\nBrought on by a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe hears the ticking of the clocks and walks along with a parrot that talks,\nHunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in,\nMaybe she'll pick him out again - how long must he wait\nOne more time for a simple twist of fate?\n\nPeople tell me it's a sin to know and feel too much within,\nI still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring,\nShe was born in spring, but I was born too late -\nBlame it on a simple twist of fate."}
{"name": "You're a Big Girl Now", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Our conversation was short and sweet,\nIt nearly swept me off of my feet -\nAnd I'm back in the rain,\nOh, and you are on dry land,\nYou made it there somehow,\nYou're a big girl now.\n\nBird on the horizon sitting on a fence,\nHe's singing his song for me at his own expense -\nAnd I'm just like that bird,\nOh, singing just for you,\nI hope that you can hear--\nHear me singing through these tears.\n\nTime is a jet plane, it moves too fast,\nOh, but what a shame! that all we've shared can't last.\nI can change, I swear,\nOh, see what you can do,\nI can make it through,\nYou can make it too.\n\nLove is so simple, to quote a phrase,\nYou've known it all the time, I'm learning it these days -\nOh, I know where I can find you,\nOh, in somebody's room,\nIt's a price I have to pay,\nYou're a big girl all the way.\n\nA change in the weather is known to be extreme,\nBut what's the sense of changing horses in midstream?\nI'm going out of my mind,\nOh, with a pain that stops and starts,\nLike a corkscrew to my heart\nEver since we've been apart."}
{"name": "Idiot Wind", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Someone's got it in for me, they're planting stories in the press,\nWhoever it is, I wish they'd cut it out quick, but when they will I can only guess.\nThey say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy,\nShe inherited a million bucks and, when she died, it came to me -\nI can't help it if I'm lucky.\n\nPeople see me all the time and they just can't remember how to act,\nTheir minds are filled with big ideas, images, and distorted facts.\nEven you, yesterday, you had to ask me where it was at,\nI couldn't believe after all these years you didn't know me any better than that,\nSweet lady.\n\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your mouth,\nBlowing down the backroads, heading south,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nI ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike,\nI haven't known peace and quiet for so long I can't remember what it's like.\nThere's a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pouring out of a boxcar door,\nYou didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done, in the final end he won the war\nAfter losing every battle.\n\nI woke up on the roadside daydreaming 'bout the way things sometimes are,\nVisions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are making me see stars.\nYou hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies,\nOne day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzing around your eyes,\nBlood on your saddle.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the flowers on your tomb,\nBlowing through the curtains in your room,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nIt was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart,\nYou tamed the lion in my cage, but it just a-wasn't enough to change my heart.\nNow everything's a little upside down - as a matter of fact, the wheels have stopped,\nWhat's good is bad, what's bad is good, you find out when you reach the top\nYou're on the bottom.\n\nI noticed at the ceremony your corrupt ways had finally made you blind,\nI can't remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes don't look into mine.\nThe priest wore black on the seventh day and sat stone-faced while the building burned,\nI waited for you on the running boards near the cypress tree while the springtime turned\nSlowly into autumn.\n\nIdiot wind blowing like a circle around my skull,\nFrom the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nI can't feel you anymore, I can't even touch the books you've read,\nEvery time I crawl past your door, I been wishing I've been somebody else instead.\nDown the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy,\nI followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory\nAnd all your raging glory.\n\nI been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free,\nI kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.\nYou'll never know the hurt I've suffered, nor the pain I'd rise above\nAnd I'll never know the same about you, your holiness, or your kind of love\nAnd it makes me feel so sorry.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the buttons of our coat,\nBlowing through the letters that we wrote,\nIdiot wind blowing through the dust upon our shelves,\nWe're idiots, babe, it's a wonder we can even feed ourselves."}
{"name": "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "I've seen love go by my door, it's never been this close before,\nNever been so easy or so slow.\nI been shooting in the dark too long, when something's not right, it's wrong,\nYou're gonna make me lonesome when you go.\n\nDragon clouds so high above, I've only known careless love,\nIt always has hit me from below,\nBut this time 'round it's more correct, right on target, so direct,\nYou're gonna make me lonesome when you go.\n\nPurple clover, Queen Anne lace, crimson hair across your face,\nYou could make me cry if you don't know.\nCan't remember what I was thinking of, you might be spoiling me too much, love,\nYou're gonna make me lonesome when you go.\n\nFlowers on the hillside blooming crazy,\nCrickets talking back and forth in rhyme,\nBlue river running slow and lazy,\nI could stay with you forever and never realize the time.\nSituations have ended sad, relationships have all been bad -\nMine've been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud's,\nBut there's no way I can compare all them scenes to this affair,\nYou're gonna make me lonesome when you go.\n\nYou're gonna make me wonder what I'm doing,\nStaying far behind without you,\nYou're gonna make me wonder what I'm saying,\nYou're gonna make me give myself a good talking-to.\nI'll look for you in old Honolulu, San Francisco, or Ashtabula,\nYou're gonna have to leave me now, I know,\nBut I'll see you in the sky above, in the tall grass, in the ones I love,\nYou're gonna make me lonesome when you go."}
{"name": "Meet Me in the Morning", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Meet me in the morning, 56th and Wabasha,\nMeet me in the morning, 56th and Wabasha,\nHoney, we could be in Kansas by the time the snow begins to thaw.\n\nThey say the darkest hour is right before the dawn,\nThey say the darkest hour is right before the dawn,\nBut a-you wouldn't know it by me, every day's been darkness since you been gone.\n\nLittle rooster crowing, there must be something on his mind,\nLittle rooster crowing, there must be something on his mind,\nWell, I feel just like that rooster, honey, you treat me so unkind.\n\nWell, I struggled through barbed wire, felt the hail fall from above,\nWell, I struggled through barbed wire, felt the hail fall from above,\nWell, you know, I've even outrun the hound dog, honey, you know I've earned your love.\n\nLook at the sun sinking like a ship,\nLook at the sun sinking like a ship,\nAin't that just like my heart, babe, when you kiss my lips?"}
{"name": "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "The festival was over and the boys were all planning for a fall,\nThe cabaret was quiet except for the drilling in the wall,\nThe curfew had been lifted and the gambling wheel shut down,\nAnyone with any sense had already left town;\nHe was standing in the doorway, looking like the jack of hearts.\n\nHe moved across the mirrored room, \"Set it up for everyone,\" he said,\nThen everyone commenced to do what they were doing before he turned their heads,\nAnd he walked up to a stranger and he asked him with a grin,\n\"Could you kindly tell me, friend, what time the show begins?\"\nThen he moved into the corner, face down like the jack of hearts.\n\nBackstage the girls were playing five-card stud by the stairs,\nLily had two queens, she was hoping for a third to match her pair.\nOutside the streets were filling up, the window was open wide,\nA gentle breeze was blowing - you could feel it from inside,\nLily called another bet and drew up the jack of hearts.\n\nBig Jim was no one's fool, he owned the town's only diamond mine,\nHe made his usual entrance, looking so dandy and so fine.\nWith his bodyguards and silver cane and every hair in place,\nHe took whatever he wanted to and he laid it all to waste,\nBut his bodyguards and silver cane were no match for the jack of hearts.\n\nRosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town,\nShe slipped in through the side door, looking like a queen without a crown.\nShe fluttered her false eyelashes and whispered in his ear,\n\"Sorry, darling, that I'm late,\" but he didn't seem to hear:\nHe was staring into space over at the jack of hearts.\n\nI know I've seen that face somewhere, Big Jim was thinking to himself,\nMaybe down in Mexico or a picture upon somebody's shelf.\nBut then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the house lights a-did dim\nAnd in the darkness of the room there was only Jim and him,\nStaring at the butterfly, who just drew the jack of hearts.\n\nLily was a princess, she was fair-skinned and precious as a child,\nShe did whatever she had to do, she had that certain flash every time she smiled.\nShe had come away from a broken home, had lots of strange affairs\nWith men in every walk of life, which took her everywhere,\nBut she'd never met anyone quite like the jack of hearts.\n\nThe hanging judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined,\nThe drilling in the wall kept up, but no one seemed to pay it any mind.\nIt was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring\nAnd nothing would ever come between Lily and the king -\nNo, nothing ever would, except maybe the jack of hearts.\n\nRosemary started drinking hard and seeing her reflection in the knife,\nShe was tired of the attention, tired of playing the role of Big Jim's wife.\nShe had done a lot of bad things, even once tried suicide,\nWas looking to do just one good deed before she died -\nShe was gazing to the future, riding on the jack of hearts.\n\nLily took her dress off, buried it away,\n\"Has your luck run out?\" she laughed at him, \"Well, I guess you musta known it would someday.\nBe careful not to touch the wall - there's a brand-new coat of paint,\nI'm glad to see you're still alive, you're looking like a saint.\"\nDown the hallway footsteps were coming for the jack of hearts.\n\nThe backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair,\n\"There's something funny going on,\" he said, \"I can just feel it in the air.\"\nHe went to get the hanging judge, but the hanging judge a-was drunk,\nAs the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk -\nThere was no actor anywhere better than the jack of hearts.\n\nNo one knew the circumstance, but they say that it happened pretty quick:\nThe door to the dressing room burst open and a Colt revolver clicked\nAnd Big Jim was standing there - you couldn't say - surprised,\nRosemary right beside him, steady in her eyes -\nShe was with Big Jim, but she was leaning to the jack of hearts.\n\nTwo doors down the boys finally made it through the wall\nAnd cleaned out the bank safe - it's said they got off with quite a haul.\nIn the darkness by the riverbed they waited on the ground\nFor one more member, who had business back in town,\nFor they couldn't go no further without the jack of hearts.\n\nThe next day was hanging day, the sky was overcast and black,\nBig Jim lay covered up, killed by a penknife in the back,\nAnd Rosemary on the gallows, she didn't even blink,\nThe hanging judge a-was sober, he hadn't had a drink,\nThe only person on the scene missing was the jack of hearts.\n\nThe cabaret was empty now, a sign said \"Closed for Repair\",\nLily had already taken all of the dye out of her hair.\nShe was thinking 'bout her father, who she very rarely saw,\nThinking 'bout Rosemary and thinking about the law,\nBut most of all she was thinking 'bout the jack of hearts."}
{"name": "If You See Her, Say Hello", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "If you see her, say hello, she might be in Tangier,\nShe left here last early spring, is living there, I hear,\nSay for me that I'm alright, though things get kind of slow,\nShe might think that I've forgotten her - don't tell her, it isn't so.\n\nWe had a falling-out like lovers often will\nAnd to think of how she left that night it still brings me a chill\nAnd, though our separation, it pierced me to the heart,\nShe still lives inside of me, we've never been apart.\n\nIf you get close to her, kiss her once for me,\nI always have respected her for doing what she did and getting free.\nOh, whatever makes her happy, I won't stand in the way\nFor the bitter taste still lingers on from the night I tried to make her stay.\n\nI see a lot of people as I make the rounds\nAnd I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town\nAnd I've never gotten used to it, I've just learned to turn it off,\nEither I'm too sensitive or else I'm getting soft.\n\nSundown, yellow moon, I replay the past,\nI know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast.\nIf she's passing back this way, I'm not that hard to find,\nTell her she can look me up if she's got the time."}
{"name": "Shelter from the Storm", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood,\nWhen blackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud,\nI came in from the wilderness a creature void of form:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nAnd, if I pass this way again, you can rest assured,\nI'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word:\nIn a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be warm,\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nNot a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved,\nEverything up to that point had been left unresolved -\nTry imagining a place where it's always safe and warm:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,\nPoisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail,\nHunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nSuddenly I turned around and she was standing there\nWith silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair,\nShe walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns,\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nNow there's a wall between us, something there's been lost,\nI took too much for granted, I got my signals crossed -\nJust to think that it all began on a noneventful morn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nWell, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount,\nBut nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts\nAnd the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI've heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove\nAnd old men with broken teeth, stranded without love -\nDo I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nIn a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes,\nI bargained for salvation and she give me a lethal dose,\nI offered up my innocence, I got repaid with scorn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nWell, I'm living in a foreign country, but I'm bound to cross the line,\nBeauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine\nIf I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\""}
{"name": "Buckets of Rain", "album": "Blood on the Tracks", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Buckets of rain, buckets of tears,\nGot all them buckets coming outta my ears,\nBuckets of moonbeams in my hand,\nYou got all the love, a-honey baby, I can stand.\n\nI been meek and hard like an oak,\nI've seen pretty people disappear like smoke,\nFriends will arrive, friends will disappear -\nIf you want me, a-honey baby, I'll be here.\n\nI like the smile in your fingertips,\nI like the way that you move your hips,\nI like the cool way you look at me,\nEverything about you is bringing me misery.\n\nLittle red wagon, little red bike,\nI ain't no monkey, but I know what I like,\nI like the way you love me strong and slow,\nI'm taking you with me, a-honey baby, where I go.\n\nLife is sad, life is a bust,\nAll you can do is do what you must,\nYou do what you must do and you do it well -\nI do it for you, a-honey baby, can't you tell?"}
{"name": "Odds and Ends", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "I'll stand in awe and I'll shake my face -\nYou break your promise all over the place.\nYou promised to love me, but what do I see?\nJust you coming and spilling juice over me.\nOdds and ends, odds and ends,\nLost time is not found again.\n\nNow, you take your file and you bend my head,\nI never can remember anything that you've said.\nYou promised to love me, but what do I know?\nYou're always spilling juice on me like you got some place to go.\nOdds and ends, odds and ends,\nLost time is not found again.\n\nNow, I've had enough, my box is clean -\nYou know what I'm saying and you know what I mean.\nFrom now on you'd best get on someone else -\nWhile you're doing it, keep that juice to yourself.\nOdds and ends, odds and ends,\nLost time is not found again."}
{"name": "Million Dollar Bash", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Well, that big dumb blonde with her wheel gorged,\nTurtle, that friend of hers with his checks all forged\nAnd his cheeks in a chunk, with his cheese in the cash,\nThey're all gonna be there at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nEverybody from right now to over there and back,\nThe louder they come, the bigger they crack.\nCome, now, sweet cream, don't forget to flash,\nWe're all gonna meet at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I took my counselor out to the barn,\nSilly Nelly was there, she told him a yarn,\nAnd along came Jones, emptied the trash,\nEverybody went down to that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I'm hitting it too hard, my stones won't take,\nI get up in the morning, but it's too early to wake,\nFirst it's hello, goodbye, then push, and then crash,\nBut we're all gonna make it at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I looked at my watch, I looked at my wrist,\nI punched myself in the face with my fist,\nI took my potatoes down to be mashed,\nAnd I made it on over to that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash."}
{"name": "Goin' to Acapulco", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "I'm going down to Rose Marie's,\nShe never does me wrong,\nShe puts it to me plain as day\nAnd gives it to me for a song.\n\nIt's a wicked life, but what the hell?\nOh, everybody's got to eat\nAnd I'm just the same as anyone else\nWhen it comes to scratching for my meat.\n\nGoing to Acapulco, going on the run,\nGoing down to see soft gut, going to have some fun,\nYeah! going to have some fun.\n\nNow, whenever I get up and\nCan't find what I need,\nI just make it down to Rose Marie's\nAnd get something quick to eat.\n\nIt's not a bad way to make a living\nAnd I ain't complaining none\nFor I can blow my plum and break my rum\nAnd then go on home and have my fun.\n\nGoing to Acapulco, going on the run,\nGoing to Ac--to see soft gut, going to have some fun,\nYeah! going to have some fun.\n\nNow, if someone offers me a joke,\nI just say no thanks,\nI try to tell it like it is\nAnd keep away from pranks.\n\nNow, every time, you know, when the well breaks down,\nI just go pump on it some.\nRose Marie, she likes to go to big places\nAnd just set there waiting for me to come.\n\nGoing to Acapulco, going on the run,\nGoing down to see soft gut, going down some fun,\nYeah! going to have some fun."}
{"name": "Lo and Behold!", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "I pulled out for San Anton', I never felt so good,\nMy woman said she'd meet me there and of course I knew she would.\nThe coachman, he hit me for my hook and--and he asked me my name,\nI'll give it to him right away, then I hung my head in shame.\nLo and behold! Lo and behold!\nLooking for my lo and behold!\nGet me outta here, my dear man!\n\nI come into Pittsburgh at six-thirty flat,\nI found myself a vacant seat and I put down my hat.\n\"What's the matter, Molly dear? What's the matter with your mound?\"\n\"What's it to you, Moby Dick? This is chicken-town!\"\nLo and behold! Lo and behold!\nLooking for my lo and behold!\nGet me outta here, my dear man!\n\nI bought myself a herd of moose, one day she could call it her own,\nWell, she came out the very next day to see where they had flown.\nI'm going down to Tennessee, get me a truck or something,\nWanna save my money and rip it up.\nLo and behold! Lo and behold!\nLooking for my lo and behold!\nGet me outta here, my dear man!\n\nNow, I come in on a Ferris wheel and, boys, I sure was slick,\nI come in like a ton of bricks, laid a few tricks on 'em.\nGoing back to Pittsburgh, count up to thirty,\nRound that horn and ride that herd, gonna thread up.\nLo and behold! Lo and behold!\nLooking for my lo and behold!\nGet me outta here, my dear man!"}
{"name": "Clothes Line Saga", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "After a while we took in the clothes, nobody said very much,\nJust some old wild shirts and a couple pairs of pants, which nobody really wanted to touch.\nMama come in and picked up a book and papa asked her what it was,\nSomeone else asked, \"What do you care?\" Papa said, \"Well, just because.\"\nThen they started to take back the clothes, hang 'em on the line,\nIt was January the thirtieth and everybody was feeling fine.\n\nThe next day everybody got up, seeing if the clothes were dry,\nThe dogs were barking, the neighbor passed, mama, of course she said hi.\n\"Have you heard the news?\" he said with a grin, \"The Vice President's gone mad!\"\n\"Where?\" \"Downtown.\" \"When?\" \"Last night.\" \"Hmm, gee, that's too bad.\"\n\"Well, there's nothing we can do about it,\" said the neighbor, \"Just something we're gonna have to forget.\"\n\"Yes, I guess so,\" said ma, then she asked me if the clothes were still wet.\n\nI reached up, touched my shirt, and the neighbor said, \"Are those clothes yours?\"\nI said, \"Some of 'em, not all of 'em.\" He said, \"You always help out around here with the chores?\"\nI said, \"Sometime, not all the time.\" Then my neighbor, he blew his nose\nJust as papa yelled outside, \"Mama wants you to come back in the house and bring them clothes!\"\nWoo-hoo!\nWell, I just do what I'm told, so I did it of course,\nI went back in the house and mama met me and then I shut all the doors."}
{"name": "Apple Suckling Tree", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Under that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnderneath that tree there's just gonna be you and me,\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\n\nPull man down on a county hook, my man,\nPull man down like a county hook, my man,\nPull man down in pulley hook, let 'em take me or take a look,\nPull him down in a county hook, my man.\n\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnderneath that tree there's just gonna be you and me,\nUnderneath that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\n\nNow, I wish to my soul that I had seven years, uh-huh,\nI wish to my soul I had seven years, uh-huh,\nSt. Bartholomew's burying ground won't catch your name, but he has the hound,\n[incoherent] on the avenue, oh, yeah!\n\nUnderneath that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nWell, underneath that tree there's just gonna be you and me,\nUnderneath that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\n\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnder that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!\nUnderneath that tree there's just gonna be you and me,\nUnderneath that apple suckling tree, oh, yeah!"}
{"name": "Please, Mrs. Henry", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Well, I've already had two beers, I'm ready for the broom,\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, won't you take me to my room?\nI'm a good old boy, but I've been sniffing too many eggs,\nTalking too many people, drinking too many kegs.\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nI'm down on my knees and I ain't got a dime.\n\nWell, I'm groaning in the hallway, pretty soon I'll be mad,\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, won't you take me to your dad?\nI can drink like a fish, I can crawl like a snake,\nI can bite like a turkey, I can slam like a drake.\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nI'm down on my knees and I ain't got a dime.\n\nNow, don't crowd me, lady, or I'll fill up your shoe,\nI'm a sweet bourbon daddy and tonight I am blue,\nI'm a thousand years old, I'm a generous bomb,\nI'm T-boned and punctured, I've been known to be calm.\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nI'm down on my knees and I ain't got a dime.\n\nNow, I'm starting to drain, my stool's gonna squeak,\nIf I walk too much farther, my crane's gonna leak.\nLook, Mrs. Henry, there's only so much I can do,\nWhy don't you look my way and pump me a few?\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nPlease, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Henry, please!\nI'm down on my knees and I ain't got a dime."}
{"name": "Tears of Rage", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "We carried you in our arms on Independence Day\nAnd now you'd throw us all aside and put us on our way.\nOh, what dear daughter would--'neath the sun--would treat her father so?\nTo wait upon him hand and foot, yet always answer \"no\"?\nTears of rage, tears of grief, why I'm always the one who must feel a thief?\nCome to me now, you know, we're so alone and life is brief.\n\nIt was all pointed out, the way to go, and scratched your name in sand,\nThough you just thought that it was nothing more than a place for you to stand.\nNow, I want you to know that, while you watched--discover that there was no one true,\nThat I myself really thought it was just a childish thing to do.\nTears of rage, tears of grief, why am I always the one who must feel the thief?\nCome to me now, you know, we're so alone and life is brief.\n\nIt was all very, very painless when you ran out to receive\nAll that false instruction, which we never could believe,\nAnd now the heart is filled with gold as if it was a purse,\nBut, oh, what kind of love is this, which goes from bad to worse?\nTears of rage, tears of grief, why am I always the one who must feel the thief?\nCome to me now, you know, we're so alone and life is brief."}
{"name": "Too Much of Nothing", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Too much of nothing can make a man ill at ease:\nOne man's temper rises, well, another man's temper might freeze.\nNow, it's that day of confession and we cannot mock a soul,\nOh, when there's too much of nothing, no one has control.\n\nSay hello to Valerie, say hello to Vivian,\nGive her all my salary on the waters of oblivion.\n\nWell, there's too much of nothing--can cause a man to weep,\nHe can walk the streets like most and boast of what he'd like to keep,\nBut it's all been done before, it's all been written in the book\nAnd, when there's too much of nothing, nobody should look.\n\nSay hello to Valerie, say hello to Vivian,\nGive her all my salary on the waters of oblivion.\n\nNow, too much of nothing can make a man a liar,\nIt can cause some men to sleep on nails, it can cause others to eat fire.\nEverybody's doing something - I've heard it in a dream,\nBut, when there's too much of nothing, it just makes a fellow mean.\n\nSay hello to Valerie, say hello to Vivian,\nGive her all my salary on the waters of oblivion."}
{"name": "Yea! Heavy and a Bottle of Bread", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Well, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus,\nThe poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed\nOn the very next day with a nose full of pus,\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\n\nIt's a one-track town, just brown and a breeze, too,\nPack up the meat, sweet, we're heading out\nFor Wichita in a pile of fruit,\nGet the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a trout!\nGet the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a trout!\nGet the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a trout!\n\nNow, pull that drummer out from behind that bottle,\nBring me my pipe, we're gonna shake it,\nSlap that drummer with a pie that smells,\nTake me down to California, baby!\nTake me down to California, baby!\nTake me down to California, baby!\nTake me down to California, baby!\n\nYes, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus,\nPoor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed\nOn the very next day with a nose full of pus,\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!\nYea heavy, and a bottle of bread!"}
{"name": "Crash on the Levee (Down in the Flood)", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Crash on the levee, mama, water's gonna overflow,\nSwamp's gonna rise, no boat's gonna row.\nNow, you can train on down to Williams Point,\nYou can bust your feet, you can rock this joint,\nBut, oh, mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?\nYou gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow.\n\nNow, don't you try and move me, you're just gonna lose,\nThere's a crash on the levee and, mama, you been refused.\nWell, it's sugar for sugar, it's salt for salt,\nIf you go down in the flood, it's gonna be your fault.\nOh, mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?\nYes, you gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow.\n\nWell, the high tide's rising, mama, don't you let me down,\nPack up your suitcase, mama, don't you make a sound.\nNow, it's king for king, queen for queen,\nIt's gonna be the meanest flood that anybody's seen,\nOh, mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?\nYes, you gonna have to find yourself another best friend somehow."}
{"name": "Tiny Montgomery", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Tell 'em Tiny Montgomery says hello.\n\nNow, every boy and girl's gonna get their bang\n'Cause Tiny Montgomery's gonna shake that thing.\nTell 'em--everybody down in old Frisco\nThat Tiny Montgomery's coming down to say hello.\n\nSkinny Moo and T-Bone Frank,\nThey're all gonna take on down by the bounded bank.\nOne bird-book and a buzzard and a crow,\nTell 'em all that Tiny's gonna say hello.\n\nScratch your dad, do that bird,\nSuck that pig and bring it on home.\nPink that dream and nose that dough,\nTell 'em all that Tiny says hello.\n\nNow, he's a king of the drunk and he squeezes, too,\nWatch out, Lester, take it, Blue,\nJoin the monk, C.I.O.,\nTell 'em all that Tiny Montgomery says hello.\n\nNow, grease that gig and play it blank,\nHang on and go on out and gas that dog,\nTrick on in, flower that smoll,\nTake it on down to give me grow.\nNow, play that low and pick it up,\nTake it on in in a bowl-cup.\nThree-legged man and a hot-lipped hoe,\nTell 'em all Montgomery says hello.\n\nWell, you can tell everybody down in old Frisco,\nTell 'em all that Montgomery says hello."}
{"name": "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Clouds so swift, rain won't lift, gate won't close, railings froze -\nGet your mind off wintertime, you ain't going nowhere.\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come!\nOh, oh, are we gonna fly down in the easy chair!\n\nI don't care how many letters they sent, morning came and morning went,\nPick up your money and pack up your tent, you ain't going nowhere.\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come!\nOh, oh, are we gonna fly down in the easy chair!\n\nBuy me a flute and a gun that shoots, tailgates and substitutes,\nStrap yourself to the tree with roots, you ain't going nowhere.\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come!\nOh, oh, are we gonna fly down to the easy chair!\n\nGenghis Khan, he could not keep all his kings supplied with sleep,\n\"But we'll climb that hill no matter how steep when we come up to it!\"\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come!\nOh, oh, we gonna fly down to the easy chair!"}
{"name": "Don't Ya Tell Henry", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Yes, I went down to the river on a Saturday morn,\nI's looking around just to see who was born.\nI spied a little chicken a-down on his knees,\nI went up and yelled to him, \"Please, please, please!\"\nShe said, \"Don't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry, apple's got your fly.\"\n\nYes, I went down to the beanery at half past twelve,\nI's looking around just to see myself.\nI looked high and low and I looked up above,\nBut who did I see but the one I love?\nShe said, \"Now, don't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry, apple's got your fly.\"\n\nYeah, I went down to the whorehouse the other night,\nI was looking around, I was outta sight.\nI looked at a ho and I saw a mule,\nI looked for a cow and I saw me a few.\nThey said, \"Don't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry\nDon't you tell Henry, apple's got your fly.\"\n\nYeah, I went down to the river on a Saturday morn,\nI's looking around just to see who was born.\nI saw a little chicken a-down on his knees,\nI went up and yelled to him, \"Please, please, please!\"\nShe said, \"Don't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry,\nDon't you tell Henry, apple's got your fly.\""}
{"name": "Nothing Was Delivered", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Nothing was delivered\nAnd I tell this truth to you\nNot out of spite, nor anger,\nBut simply because it's true.\nNow, I hope you won't object to giving--\nGiving back all of what you owe,\nThe fewer words you have to waste on this,\nThe sooner you can go.\nNothing is better, nothing is best,\nTake care of yourself, get plenty rest.\n\nNothing was delivered,\nBut I can't say I sympathize\nWith what your fate is going to be,\nYes, for telling all those lies.\nNow, you must provide some answers\nFor what you sold that's not been received\nAnd the sooner you come up with them,\nThe sooner you can leave.\nNothing is better, nothing is best,\nTake care of yourself, get plenty rest.\n\nNow, you know, nothing was delivered\nAnd it's up to you to say\nJust what you had in mind\nWhen you made everybody pay.\nNo, nothing was delivered,\nYes, and someone must explain\nThat, as long as it takes to do this,\nThen that's how--as long as you'll remain.\nNothing is better, nothing is best,\nTake care of yourself, get plenty rest."}
{"name": "Open the Door, Homer", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Now, there's a certain thing that I learned from Jim\nThat he'd always make sure I'd understand\nAnd that is that there's a certain way we all must swim\nIf we expect to live off of the fat of the land.\nOpen the door, Richard, I heard it said before,\nOpen the door, Richard, heard it said before,\nBut I ain't gonna hear it said no more.\n\nNow, there's a certain thing that I learned from my friend, Mouse,\nThat fellow who never blushes,\nAnd that is that one must always flush out his house\nIf he don't expect to be housing flushes.\nOpen the door, Richard, I've heard it said before,\nOpen the door, Richard, I've heard it said before,\nBut I ain't gonna hear it said no more.\n\n\"Take care of all of your memories,\" said Mick,\n\"For you cannot relive them\nAnd remember when you're out there trying to heal the sick\nThat you must always first forgive them.\"\nOpen the door, Richard, I've heard it said before,\nOpen the door, Richard, I've heard it said before,\nBut I ain't gonna hear it said no more."}
{"name": "Long Distance Operator", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "Long distance operator, place this call, it's not for fun,\nLong distance operator, please place this call, you know, it's not for fun,\nI gotta get a message to my baby, you know, she's not just anyone.\n\nThere are thousands in the phone booth, thousands at the gate,\nThere are thousands in the phone booth, thousands at the gate,\nEverybody wants to make a long distance call, but, you know, they're just gonna have to wait.\n\nEverybody wants to be my friend, but nobody wants to get higher,\nEverybody wants to be my friend, but nobody wants to get higher,\nLong distance operator, I believe I'm strangling in this telephone wire."}
{"name": "This Wheel's on Fire", "album": "The Basement Tapes", "album_year": "1975", "text": "If your memory serves you well, we were going to meet again and wait,\nSo I'm going to unpack all my things and sit before it gets too late.\nNo man alive will come to you with another tale to tell\nAnd you know that we shall meet again if your memory serves you well.\nThis wheel's on fire, rolling down the road,\nBest notify my next of kin this wheel shall explode!\n\nIf your memory serves you well, I was going to confiscate your lace\nAnd wrap it up in a sailor's knot and hide it in your case\nIf I knew for sure that it was yours - but it was, oh, so hard to tell! -\nAnd you know that we shall meet again if your memory serves you well.\nThis wheel's on fire, 's rolling down the road,\nBest notify my next of kin this wheel shall explode!\n\nIf your memory serves you well, you'll remember you're the one\nThat called on me to call on them to get you your favors done\nAnd, after every plan had failed and there was nothing more to tell,\nYou knew that we should meet again if your memory served you well.\nThis wheel's on fire, it's rolling down the road,\nBest notify my next of kin that this wheel shall explode!"}
{"name": "Hurricane", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Pistol-shots ring out in the barroom night,\nEnter Patty Valentine from the upper hall,\nShe sees a bartender in a pool of blood,\nCries out, \"My God, they've killed 'em all!\"\nHere comes the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nThree bodies lying there does Patty see\nAnd another man named Bello, moving around mysteriously.\n\"I didn't do it!\" he says and he throws up his hands,\n\"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand!\nI saw them leaving,\" he says and he stops,\n\"One of us had better call up the cops.\"\nAnd so Patty calls the cops\nAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.\n\nMeanwhile far away in another part of town,\nRubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,\nThe number one contender for the middleweight crown\nHad no idea what kind of shit was about to go down\nWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the road -\nJust like the time before and the time before that.\nIn Paterson, that's just the way things go:\nIf you're black, you might as well not show up on the street 'less you wanna draw the heat.\n\nAlfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops,\nHim and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around.\nHe said, \"I saw two men running out, they looked like middleweights,\nJumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.\"\nAnd Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head,\nCop said, \"Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead!\"\nSo they took him to the infirmary\nAnd, though this man could hardly see, they told him he could identify the guilty men.\n\nFour in the morning and they haul Rubin in,\nThey took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.\nThe wounded man looks up through his one, dying eye,\nSaid, \"Why'd you bring him in here for! He ain't the guy!\"\nHere's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nFour months later, the ghettoes are in flame,\nRubin's in South America, fighting for his name,\nWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game\nAnd the cops are putting the screws to him, looking for somebody to blame.\n\"Remember that murder that you--happened in a bar?\nRemember you said you saw the getaway car?\nThink you'd like to play ball with the law?\nThink it mighta been that fighter that you saw running that night? Don't forget that you are white.\"\n\nArthur Dexter Bradley said, \"I'm really not sure.\"\nThe cops said, \"A poor boy like you could use a break -\nWe got you for the motel job and you talking to your friend, Bello,\nIf you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.\nYou'll be doing society a favor,\nThat son-of-a-bitch is brave and getting braver.\nWe wanna put his ass in the stir,\nWe wanna pin this triple murder on him - he ain't no 'Gentleman Jim'.\"\n\nRubin could take a man out with just one punch,\nBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.\n\"It's my work,\" he'd say, \"and I do it for pay\nAnd, when it's over, just as soon go on my way\"--\nUp into some paradise\nWhere the trout streams flow and the air is nice\nAnd ride a horse along the trail,\nBut then they took him to the jailhouse, where they try to turn a man into a mouse.\n\nAll of Rubin's cards were marked in advance,\nThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance:\nThe judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums,\nTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum,\nAnd to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger,\nNo one doubted that he pulled the trigger,\nAnd, though they could not produce the gun,\nThe D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.\n\nRubin Carter was falsely tried,\nThe crime was murder one, guess who testified?\n--Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied,\nThe newspapers, they all went along for the ride.\nHow can the life of such a man\nBe in the palm of some fool's hand?\nTo see him obviously framed\nCouldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game.\n\nNow all the criminals in their coats and their ties\nAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise\nWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell,\nAn innocent man in a living hell.\nYes, that's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nBut it won't be over till they clear his name\nAnd give him back the time he's done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world."}
{"name": "Isis", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "I married Isis on the fifth day of May,\nBut I could not hold on to her very long,\nSo I cut off a-my hair and I rode straight away\nFor the wild, unknown country where I could not go wrong.\n\nI came to a high place of darkness and light,\nDividing line ran through the center of town,\nI hitched up my pony to a post on the right,\nWent into the laundry to wash my clothes down.\n\nA man in the corner approached me for a match,\nI knew right away he was not ordinary,\nHe said, \"Are you looking for something easy to catch?\"\nSaid, \"I got no money.\" He said, \"That ain't necessary.\"\n\nWe set out that night for the cold in the north,\nI gave him my blanket and he gave me his word,\nI said, \"Where are we going?\" He said we'd be back by the fourth.\nI said, \"That's the best news that I've ever heard.\"\n\nI was thinking about turquoise, I was thinking about gold,\nI was thinking about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace,\nAs we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold,\nI was thinking about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless,\n\nHow she told me that one day we would meet up again\nAnd things would be different the next time we wed\nIf I only could a-hang on and just be her friend -\nI still can't remember all the best things she said.\n\nWe came to the pyramids all embedded in ice,\nHe said, \"There's a body I'm trying to find.\nIf I carry it out, it'll bring a good price.\"\n'Twas a-then that I knew what he had on his mind.\n\nThe wind, it was howling and the snow was outrageous,\nWe chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn.\nWhen he died, I was hoping that it wasn't contagious,\nBut I made up my mind that I had to go on.\n\nI broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty.\nThere was no jewels, no nothing! I felt I've been had\nWhen I saw that my partner was just being friendly,\nWhen I took up his offer, I must've been mad.\n\nI picked up his body and I dragged him inside,\nThrew him down in the hole and I put back the cover.\nI said a quick prayer and I felt satisfied,\nThen I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.\n\nShe was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise,\nBlinded by sleep and in need of a bed.\nI came in from the east with the sun in my eyes,\nI cursed her one time, then I rode on ahead.\n\nShe said, \"Where you been?\" I said, \"No place special.\"\nShe said, \"You look a-different.\" I said, \"Well, I guess.\"\nShe said, \"You been gone.\" I said, \"That's only natural.\"\nShe said, \"You gonna stay?\" I said, \"If you want me to, yes!\"\n\nIsis, oh, Isis, you're a mystical child,\nWhat drives a-me to you is what drives me insane,\nI still can remember the way that you smiled\nOn the fifth day of May in the drizzling a-rain."}
{"name": "Mozambique", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "I like to spend some time in Mozambique,\nThe sunny sky is aqua-blue,\nAnd all the couples dancing cheek to cheek,\nIt's very nice to stay a week or two\nAnd maybe fall in love, just me and you.\n\nThere's lots of pretty girls in Mozambique\nAnd plenty time for good romance\nAnd everybody likes to stop and speak,\nTo give the special one you seek a chance\nAnd maybe say hello with just a glance.\n\nLying next to her by the ocean,\nReaching out and touching her hand,\nWhispering your secret emotion -\nMagic in a magical land.\nAnd when it's time for leaving Mozambique,\nTo say goodbye to sand and sea,\nYou turn around to take a final peek\nAnd you see why it's so unique to be\nAmong the lovely people living free\nUpon the beach of sunny Mozambique."}
{"name": "One More Cup of Coffee (Valley Below)", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Your breath is sweet, your eyes are like two jewels in the sky,\nYour back is straight, your hair is smooth on the pillow where you lie,\nBut I don't sense affection, no gratitude or love,\nYour loyalty is not to me but to the stars above.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour daddy, he's an outlaw and a wanderer by trade,\nHe'll teach you how to pick and choose and how to throw the blade,\nHe oversees his kingdom so no stranger does intrude,\nHis voice, it trembles as he calls out for another plate of food.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour sister sees the future like your mama and yourself,\nYou've never learned to read or write, there's no books upon your shelf,\nAnd your pleasure knows no limits, your voice is like a meadowlark,\nBut your heart is like an ocean, mysterious and dark.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below."}
{"name": "Oh, Sister", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Oh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms,\nYou should not treat me like a stranger,\nOur Father would not like the way that you act\nAnd you must realize the danger.\n\nOh, sister, am I not a brother to you?\nAnd one deserving of affection?\nAnd is our purpose not the same on this earth,\nTo love and follow His direction?\n\nWe grew up together from the cradle to the grave,\nWe died and were reborn and then mysteriously saved.\nOh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nDon't turn away, you'll create sorrow.\nTime is an ocean, but it ends at the shore:\nYou may not see me tomorrow."}
{"name": "Joey", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Born in Red Hook, Brooklyn, in the year of a-who knows when,\nOpened up his eyes to the tune of an accordion,\nAlways on the outside of whatever side there was,\nWhen they asked him why it had to be that way, \"Well,\" he answered, \"just because.\"\nLarry was the oldest, Joey was next to last,\nThey called Joe \"Crazy\", the baby they called \"Kid Blast\",\nSome say they lived off gambling and running numbers too,\nIt always seemed they got caught between the mob and the men in blue.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nThere was talk they killed their rivals, but the truth was far from that,\nNo one ever knew for sure where they were really at.\nWhen they tried to strangle Larry, Joey almost a-hit the roof,\nHe went out that night to seek revenge, thinking he was bulletproof.\nWhen a war broke out at the break of dawn, it emptied out the streets,\nJoey and his brothers suffered terrible defeats\nTill they ventured out behind the lines and took five prisoners,\nThey stashed them away in a basement, called 'em \"amateurs\".\nThe hostages were trembling when they heard a man exclaim,\n\"Let's blow this place to kingdom come, let Con Edison take the blame.\"\nBut Joey stepped up and he raised his hands, said, \"We're not those kind of men,\nIt's peace and quiet that we need to go back to work again.\"\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nThe police department hounded him, they called him \"Mr. Smith\",\nThey got him on conspiracy - they were never sure who with.\n\"What time is it?\" said the judge to Joey when they met.\n\"Five to ten,\" said Joey. Judge says, \"That's exactly what you get.\"\nHe did ten years in Attica, reading Nietzsche and Wilhelm Reich,\nThey threw him in the hole one time for trying to stop a strike,\nHis closest friends were black men 'cause they seemed to understand\nWhat it's like to be in society with a shackle on your hand.\nThey let him out in '71, he'd lost a little weight,\nBut he dressed like Jimmy Cagney and I swear he did look great.\nHe tried to find a way back into the life he left behind,\nTo the boss said, \"I have returned and now I want what's mine.\"\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nIt was true that in his later years he would not carry a gun:\n\"I'm around too many children,\" he'd say, \"they should never know of one.\"\nYet he walked right into the clubhouse of his lifelong, deadly foe,\nEmptied out the register, said, \"Tell 'em it was Crazy Joe.\"\nOne day they blew him down in a clam bar in New York,\nHe could see it coming through the door as he lifted up his fork.\nHe pushed the table over to protect his family,\nThen he staggered out into the streets of Little Italy.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nSister Jacqueline and Carmela and mother Mary all did weep,\nI heard his best friend, Frankie, say, \"He ain't dead, he's just asleep\",\nAnd I saw the old man's limousine head back towards the grave -\nI guess he had to say one last goodbye to the son that he could not save.\nThe sun turned cold over President Street and the town of a-Brooklyn mourned,\nThey said a mass in the old church near the house where he was born.\nSomeday, if God's in heaven overlooking His preserve,\nI know the men that shot him down will get what they deserve.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?"}
{"name": "Romance in Durango", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun,\nDust on my face and my cape,\nMe and Magdalena on the run,\nI think this time we should escape.\n\nSold my guitar to the baker's son\nFor a few crumbs and a place to hide,\nBut I can get another one\nAnd I'll play for Magdalena as we ride.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nPast the Aztec ruins and the ghosts of our people,\nHoofbeats like castanets on stone,\nAt night I dream of bells in the village steeple,\nThen I see the bloody face of Ramon.\n\nWas it me that shot him down in the cantina?\nWas it my hand that held the gun?\nCome, let us fly, my Magdalena,\nThe dogs are barking and what's done is done.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nAt the corrida we'll sit in the shade\nAnd watch the young torero stand alone,\nWe'll drink tequila where our grandfathers stayed\nWhen they rode with Villa into Torreon.\n\nThen the padre will recite the prayers of old\nIn the little church a-this side of town,\nI will wear new boots and an earring of gold,\nYou'll shine with diamonds in your wedding gown.\n\nThe way, it is long, but the end is near,\nAlready the fiesta has begun,\nThe face of God will appear\nWith His serpent eyes of obsidian.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nWas that the thunder that I heard?\nMy head is vibrating, I feel a sharp pain.\nCome sit by me, don't say a word.\nOh, can it be that I am slain?\n\nQuick, Magdalena, take my gun,\nLook up in the hills, that flash of light.\nAim well, my little one,\nWe may not make it through the night.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango."}
{"name": "Black Diamond Bay", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Up on the white veranda, she wears a necktie and a Panama hat,\nHer passport shows a face from another time and place, she looks a-nothing like that,\nAnd all of the remnants of her recent past are scattered in the wild wind.\nShe walks across the marble floor where a voice from the gambling room is calling her to come on in,\nShe smiles, walks the other way\nAs the last ship sails and the moon fades away from Black Diamond Bay.\n\nAs the morning light breaks open, the Greek comes down and he asks for rope and a pen that will write.\n\"Pardon, monsieur,\" the desk clerk says, carefully removes his fez, \"am I hearing you right?\"\nAnd, as the yellow fog is lifting, the Greek is quickly heading for the second floor,\nShe passes him on the spiral staircase, thinking he's the Soviet Ambassador.\nShe starts to speak, but he walks away\nAs the storm clouds rise and the palm branches sway on Black Diamond Bay.\n\nA soldier sits beneath the fan, doing business a-with a tiny man, who sells him a ring,\nLightning strikes, the lights blow out, the desk clerk wakes, he begins to shout, \"Can you see anything?\"\nThen the Greek appears on the second floor in his bare feet with a rope around his neck\nWhile a loser in the gambling room lights up a candle, says, \"Open up another deck\",\nBut the dealer says, \"Attendez-vous, s'il vous plait\",\nAs the rain beats down and the cranes fly away from Black Diamond Bay.\n\nThe desk clerk heard the woman laugh as he looked around in the aftermath and the soldier got tough,\nHe tried to grab the woman's hand, said, \"Here's a ring, it cost a grand!\" She said, \"That ain't enough.\"\nThen she ran upstairs to pack her bags while a horse-drawn taxi waited at the curb,\nShe passed the door where the Greek had locked where a handwritten sign read a-\"Do Not Disturb\".\nShe knocked upon it anyway\nAs the sun went down and the music did play on Black Diamond Bay.\n\n\"I've got to talk to someone quick!\" But the Greek said, \"Go away!\", and he kicked the chair to the floor.\nHe hung there from the chandelier, she cried, \"Help, there's danger near, please a-open up a-the door!\"\nThen the volcano erupted and the lava flowed down from the mountain high above,\nThe soldier and the tiny man were crouched in the corner thinking of forbidden love,\nThe desk clerk said, \"It happens every day\",\nAs the stars fell down and the moons fade away on Black Diamond Bay.\n\nAs the island slowly sank, the loser finally broke the bank in the gambling room.\nThe dealer said, \"It's too late now, you can take your money, but I don't know how you'll spend it in the tomb.\"\nThe tiny man bit the soldier's ear as the floor caved in and the boiler in the basement blew,\nWhile she's out on the balcony where a stranger tells her, \"My darling, je vous aime beaucoup.\"\nShe sheds a tear and then begins to pray\nAs the sun burns on and the smoke drifts away from Black Diamond Bay.\n\nI was sitting home alone one night in L.A., watching old Cronkite on the seven o'clock news,\nIt seems there was an earthquake that left nothing but a Panama hat and a pair of old Greek shoes.\nIt didn't seem like much was happening, so I turned it off and went to grab another beer,\nSeem like every time you turn around there's another hard-luck story that you're gonna hear\nAnd there's really nothing anyone can say -\nAnd I never did plan to go anyway to Black Diamond Bay."}
{"name": "Sara", "album": "Desire", "album_year": "1976", "text": "I laid on the dune, I looked at the sky\nWhen the children were babies and played on the beach,\nYou came up behind me, I saw you go by,\nYou were always so close and still within reach.\nSara, Sara, whatever made you wanna change your mind?\nSara, Sara, so easy to look at, so hard to define.\n\nI can still see them playing with their pails in the sand,\nThey run to the water their buckets to fill,\nI can still see the shells falling out of their hands\nAs they follow each other back up the hill.\nSara, Sara, sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life,\nSara, Sara, radiant jewel, a mystical wife.\n\nSleeping in the woods by a fire in the night,\nDrinking white rum in a Portugal bar,\nThem playing leapfrog and hearing about Snow White,\nYou in a marketplace in Savanna-la-Mar.\nSara, Sara, it's all so clear, I could never forget,\nSara, oh, Sara, loving you is one thing I'll never regret.\n\nI can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells -\nI'd taken the cure and had just gotten through,\nStaying up for days in the Chelsea Hotel,\nWriting \"Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands\" for you.\nSara, oh, Sara, wherever we travel we're never apart,\nSara, oh, Sara, beautiful lady so dear to my heart.\n\nHow did I meet you?--I don't know,\nA messenger sent me in a tropical storm.\nYou were there in the winter, moonlight on the snow,\nAnd on Lily Pond Lane when the weather was warm.\nSara, oh, Sara, Scorpio Sphinx in a calico dress,\nSara, oh, Sara, you must forgive me my unworthiness.\n\nNow the beach is deserted except for some kelp\nAnd a piece of an old ship that lies on the shore,\nYou always responded when I needed your help,\nYou gave me a map and a key to your door.\nSara, oh, Sara, glamorous nymph with an arrow and bow,\nSara, oh, Sara, don't ever leave me, don't ever go."}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain,\nGot a head full of ideas driving me insane,\nIt's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor, ohh!\nNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nHe hands you a nickel, then he hands you a dime,\nAsks you with a grin, \"Are you having a good time?\"\nThen he fines you every time you slam the door, ohh!\nSaid I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\n\nAin't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nHe hands--out in your face for kicks,\nHis bedroom window, it's a-made outta bricks.\nThe National Guard stands around his door, ohh!\nSaid I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nShe talks to all the servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody tells me she's the brains behind pa.\n68, but says she's 24, ohh!\nSaid I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nI try my best to be like I am,\nEverybody wants you to be like them,\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave -- I get bored, whoa-ohh!\nSaid I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more."}
{"name": "One Too Many Mornings", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Down the street the dogs are barking and the day is getting dark,\nAs the night comes in a-falling, the dogs will lose their bark,\nThe silent night will shatter from the sounds inside my mind\nAs I am one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nFrom the crossroads of my doorstep my eyes begin to fade\nAnd I turn my head back to the room where my love and I have laid\nTill I gaze back to the streets, the sidewalks, and the sign\nAnd know I'm one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nIt's a restless, hungry feeling and it don't mean no one no good\nWhen everything that I'm saying you could say it just as good.\nYou are right from your side and I'm right from mine,\nWe're both one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nI've no right to be here if you've no right to stay\nUntil we're both one too many mornings and a thousand miles away."}
{"name": "Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Well, the ragman draws circles\nUp and down the block,\nI'd ask him what the matter was,\nBut I know that he don't talk,\nAnd the ladies treat me kindly\nAnd furnish me with tape,\nBut, deep inside my heart,\nLord, I know I can't escape.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nShakespeare, he's in the alley\nWith his pointed shoes and his bells,\nSpeaking to some French girl,\nWho says she knows me well.\nAnd I would send a message\nTo find out if she's talked,\nBut the post office has been stolen\nAnd the mailbox is locked.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nMona tried to tell me\nStay away from the train line,\nShe said that all the railroad men\nDrink up your blood like wine.\nAnd I said, \"Oh, I didn't know that,\nBut, then again, there's only one I've met\nAnd he just smoked my eyelids,\nAnd punched my cigarette.\"\nOoh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nGrandpa died last week,\nNow he's buried in the rocks,\nEveryone still talks about\nHow badly they were shocked -\nBut me, I expected it to happen\nWhen I seen him lose control,\nHe built a fire on Main Street\nAnd shot it fulla holes.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nWell, my Ruthie said come see her\nIn her honky-tonk lagoon,\nWhere I could watch her waltz for free\n'Neath her Panamanian moon.\nI said, \"Oh, come on, now,\nYou must know about my debutante.\"\nShe said, \"Your debutante knows what you need,\nBut I know what you want.\"\nOh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?\n\nNow, the bricks, they fall on Grand Street,\nWhere the neon madmen climb,\nThey'd all fall there so perfectly,\nIt all seemed so well-timed,\nAnd here I sit so patiently,\nWaiting to find out what price\nYou have to pay to get outta\nGoing through all these things twice.\nOh, mama, can this really be the end -\nTo be stuck here inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again?"}
{"name": "Oh, Sister", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Oh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nYou should not treat me like a stranger,\nOur Father would not like the way that you act\nAnd you must realize the danger.\n\nOh, sister, am I not a brother to you?\nAnd one deserving of affection?\nAnd is our purpose not the same on this earth,\nTo love and follow His direction?\n\nWe grew up together from the cradle to the grave,\nWe died and were reborn and then mysteriously saved.\nOh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nDon't turn away, you'll create sorrow.\nTime is an ocean, but it ends at the shore:\nYou may not see me tomorrow.\n\nWe grew up together from the cradle to the grave,\nWe died and were reborn and then mysteriously saved.\nOh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nDon't turn away, you'll create sorrow.\nTime is an ocean, but it ends at the shore:\nYou may not see me tomorrow."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nForget this dance, let's go upstairs.\nLet's take a chance - who really cares?\nWhy don't you know you got nothing to prove?\nIt's all in your eyes and the way that you move.\n\nForget this dance, let's go upstairs.\nWhy wait any longer for no need to complain?\nYou can have love, but you might lose it.\nWhy run any longer when you're running in vain?\nYou can have the truth, but you got to choose it.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile,\nTill the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to hold you in the night -\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed."}
{"name": "Shelter from the Storm", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood,\nBlackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud,\nI came in from the wilderness a creature void of form:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nNot a word was spoke between us, there was no risk involved,\nEverything up to that point had been left unresolved -\nTry imagining a place where it's always safe and warm:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,\nPoisoned in the bushes, blown out on the trail,\nHunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nSuddenly I turned around and she was standing there\nWith silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair,\nShe walked up to me so gracefully, took my crown of thorns,\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nNow, the deputy walks on hard nails, preacher rides a mount,\nNothing a-really matters much, doom alone that counts,\nAnd the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nIn a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes,\nI bargained for salvation, they gave me a lethal dose,\nI offered up my innocence, got repaid with scorn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nNow there's a wall between us, something there's been lost,\nI took too much for granted, got my signals crossed -\nJust to think that it all began in a noneventful morn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI'm living in a foreign country, but I'm bound to cross the line,\nBeauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine\nIf I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\""}
{"name": "You're a Big Girl Now", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Our conversation was short and sweet,\nIt nearly knocked me off of my feet -\nAnd I'm back in the rain,\nEh, and you are on dry land,\nYou made it there somehow,\nYou're a big girl now.\n\nBird on the horizon sitting on a fence,\nHe's singing his song for me at his own expense -\nAnd I'm just like that bird,\nEh, singing just for you,\nI a-hope you can hear--\nHear me singing through these tears.\n\nLove is so simple, to quote a phrase,\nYou've known it all the time, I'm learning it these days -\nOh, I know where I can find you,\nEh, in somebody's room,\nIt's a price I'll have to pay,\nYou're a big girl all the way.\n\nTime is a jet plane, it moves too fast,\nOh, but what a shame! if all we've shared can't last.\nWell, I may just swear,\nEh, see what you can do,\nI can make it through,\nYou can make it too.\n\nA change in the weather is always extreme,\nBut what's the sense of changing horses in midstream?\nI'm going out of my mind,\nHey, with a pain that stops and starts,\nLike a corkscrew to my heart\nEver since we've been apart."}
{"name": "I Threw It All Away", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "I once held her in my arms,\nShe said she would always stay,\nBut I musta been mad, never knew what I had,\nI threw it all away,\nI threw it all away.\n\nOnce I had mountains in the palm of my hand\nAnd rivers that ran through every day,\nBut, what'd I do? I let it slip through,\nI threw it all away,\nI threw it all away.\n\nLove is all there is, it makes the world go 'round,\nLove and only love - it can't be denied.\nNo matter what you think about it, you won't be able to do without it -\nTake a tip from a-one who's tried.\nSo, if you find someone who gives you all of her love,\nTake it to your heart, don't let it stray.\nOne thing for sure: there ain't no cure\nIf you throw it all away,\nIf you throw it all away."}
{"name": "Idiot Wind", "album": "Hard Rain", "album_year": "1976", "text": "Someone's got it in for me, they're planting stories in the press,\nWhoever it is, I wish they'd cut it out quick, but when they will I can only guess.\nThey say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy,\nShe inherited a million bucks and, when she died, it came to me -\nI can't help it if I'm lucky.\n\nPeople see me all the time, I guess they just can't remember how to act,\nTheir minds are filled with false ideas, images, and distorted facts.\nAnd even you, yesterday, you had to ask me where it was at,\nI couldn't believe after all these years you didn't know me any better than that,\nSweet lady.\n\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your mouth,\nBlowing on down the backroads, heading south,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nI ran into the fortune-teller, she said beware 'cause of lightning might strike,\nI haven't known about peace and quiet now for so long I don't even remember what it's like.\nThere's a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pouring out of a boxcar door,\nHe didn't know it, he never thought it could be done, but in the final shot he'd won the war\nAfter losing every battle.\n\nI woke up on the roadside daydreaming 'bout the way things a-really are,\nVisions of your smoking tone shoot through my head and are making me see stars.\nYou hurt the ones that I love best, then cover up the truth with lies,\nOne day you'll be in the grave, flies buzzing around your eyes,\nBlood on your saddle.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the flowers on your tomb,\nBlowing through the curtains in your room,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your mouth--teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still can even breathe.\n\nIt was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart,\nYou tamed the lion in my cage, but it wasn't enough to change my heart.\nNow everything's a little upside down - as a matter of fact, the wheels have stopped,\nWhat's good is bad, what's bad is good, you'll find out when you reach the top\nYou are on the bottom.\n\nI noticed at the ceremony that your corrupt ways had finally made you blind,\nI can't recall your face anymore, your mouth has changed and your eyes don't look into mine.\nThe priest wore black on the seventh day, sat stone-faced while the building burned,\nI waited for you on the running boards near the cypress tree while the springtime turned\nSlowly into autumn.\n\nIdiot wind blowing like a circle around my skull,\nFrom the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nI can't feel you anymore, I can't even touch the clothes you wear,\nEvery time I come into your door, you leave me standing in the middle of the air.\nDown the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy,\nI followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory\nAnd all your raging glory.\n\nI've been double-crossed now for the very last time and I think I finally see,\nI kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.\nYou'll never know the hurt I suffered, nor the pain I'd rise above\nAnd I'll never know the same about you, your holiness, or your kind of love\nAnd it makes me feel so sorry.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the buttons of our coat,\nBlowing through the letters that we wrote,\nIdiot wind blowing through the dust upon our shelves,\nWe're idiots, babe, it's a wonder we can even feed ourselves."}
{"name": "Changing of the Guards", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "Sixteen years, sixteen banners united\nOver the fields where the good shepherd grieves,\nDesperate men, desperate women divided,\nSpreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves,\nFortune calls, I step forth from the shadows\nTo the marketplace, merchants and thieves hungry for power,\nMy last deal gone down, she's smelling sweet like the meadows\nWhere she was born on midsummer's eve near the tower.\n\nThe cold-blooded moon, the captain waits above the celebration,\nSending his thoughts to a beloved maid,\nWhose ebony face is beyond communication,\nThe captain is down, but still believing that his love will be repaid.\nThey shaved her head, she was torn between Jupiter and Apollo,\nA messenger arrived with a black nightingale,\nI seen her on the stairs and I couldn't help but follow--\nFollow her down past the fountain, where they lifted her veil.\n\nI struggled to my feet, I rode past destruction in the ditches\nWith the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo,\nRenegade priests and treacherous, young witches\nWere handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.\nThe palace of mirrors, where dog-soldiers are reflected,\nThe endless road and the wailing of chimes,\nThe empty rooms, where her memory is protected,\nWhere the angels' voices whisper to the souls of previous times.\n\nShe wakes him up forty-eight hours later, the sun is breaking\nNear broken chains, mountain laurel, and rolling rocks,\nShe's begging to know what measures he now will be taking,\nHe's pulling her down and she's clutching onto his long, golden locks.\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"I don't need your organization,\nI've shined your shoes, I've moved your mountains and marked your cards,\nBut Eden is burning: either get ready for elimination\nOr else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards.\n\n\"Peace will come with tranquility and the splendor\nOn the wheels of fire, but will offer no reward\nWhere the false idols fall and cruel death surrenders\nWith its pale ghost retreating between the king and the queen of swords.\""}
{"name": "New Pony", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "I had a pony, her name was Lucifer,\nI had a pony, her name was Lucifer,\nShe broke her leg and needed shooting,\nI swear it hurt me more than it coulda hurted her.\n\nSometimes I wonder what's going on with Miss X,\nSometimes I wonder what's going on with Miss X,\nShe got such a sweet disposition\nI never know what the poor girl's gonna do to me next.\n\nI got a new pony, she knows how to foxtrot, lope, and pace,\nWell, I got a new pony, she knows how to foxtrot, lope, and pace,\nShe got great big hind legs,\nLong, black, shaggy hair hanging in her face.\n\nEverybody says you're using voodoo, I've seen your feet walk by themselves,\nOh, well, everybody says you're using voodoo, I've seen your feet walk by themselves,\nOh, baby, but that god that you been praying to\nGonna give you back what you wishing on someone else.\n\nCome over here, pony, I wanna climb up one time on you,\nWell, come over here, pony, I wanna climb up one time on you,\nYou know--so nasty and you're so bad,\nBut I swear I love you, yes, I do."}
{"name": "No Time to Think", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "In death you face life with a child and a wife who sleepwalks through your dreams into walls,\nYou're a soldier of mercy and you're cold and you curse, \"He who cannot be trusted must fall.\"\nLoneliness, tenderness,\nHigh society, notoriety.\nYou fight for the throne and you travel alone, unknown as you slowly sink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nIn the Federal City you been blown and shown pity in secret for pieces of change,\nThe empress attracts you, but oppression distracts you, it makes you feel violent and strange.\nMemory, ecstasy,\nTyranny, hypocrisy.\nBetrayed by a kiss on a cool night of bliss in the valley of a missing link\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nJudges will haunt you, the country priestess will want you, her worst is better than best,\nI've seen all these decoys through a set of deep turquoise eyes and I feel so depressed.\nChina doll, alcohol,\nDuality, mortality.\nMercury rules you and destiny fools you like the plague with a dangerous wink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nYour conscience betrayed you when some tyrant waylaid you where the lion lies down with the lamb,\nI'd'a paid the traitor and killed him much later, but that's just the way that I am.\nParadise, sacrifice,\nMortality, reality.\nBut the magician is quicker and his game is much thicker than blood and blacker than ink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nVomit and jealousy's all that he sells us, he's contented when you're under his thumb,\nMadmen oppose him, your kindness throws him, to survive it you play deaf and dumb.\nEquality, liberty,\nHumility, simplicity.\nYou glance through the mirror and there's eyes staring clear at the back of your head as you drink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nWarlords of sorrow and queens of tomorrow will offer their heads for a prayer,\nYou can't find no salvation, have no expectations any time, any place, anywhere.\nMercury, gravity,\nNobility, humility.\nYou know you can't keep her and the water gets deeper that is leading you onto the brink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nYou've murdered your vanity, burned your sanity for pleasure you must now resist,\nLovers obey you, but they cannot sway you, they're not even sure you exist.\nSocialism, hypnotism,\nPatriotism, materialism.\nFools making laws for the breaking of jaws and the sound of the keys as they clink\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nThe bridge that you travel on goes to the Babylon girl with the rose in her hair,\nStarlight in the east, you're finally released, you're stranded with nothing to share.\nLoyalty, unity,\nEpitome, rigidity.\nYou turn around for one real last glimpse of Camille 'neath the moonshine, bloody and pink,\nAnd there's no time to think.\n\nBullets can harm you and death can disarm you, but, no, you will not be deceived,\nStripped of all virtue as you crawl through the dirt, you can give but you cannot receive.\nNo time to choose when the truth must die,\nNo time to lose or say goodbye,\nNo time to prepare for the victim that's there, no time to suffer or blink,\nAnd no time to think."}
{"name": "Baby, Stop Crying", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe,\nBut you're back where you belong.\nGo get me my pistol, babe,\nHoney, I can't tell right from wrong.\n\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying,\nYou know I know the sun will always shine,\nBut, baby, please stop crying 'cause it's tearing up my mind.\n\nGo down to the river, babe,\nHoney, I will meet you there,\nGo down to the river, babe,\nHoney, I will pay your fare.\n\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying,\nYou know I know the sun will always shine,\nBut, baby, please stop crying 'cause it's tearing up my mind.\n\nIf you're looking for assistance, babe,\nOr if you just want some company\nOr if you just want a friend you can talk to,\nHoney, come and see about me.\n\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying,\nYou know I know the sun will always shine,\nBut, baby, please stop crying 'cause it's tearing up my mind.\n\nYou been hurt so many times\nAnd I know what you're thinking of,\nWell, I don't have to be no doctor, babe,\nTo see that you're madly in love.\n\nBut, baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying,\nBaby, please stop crying,\nYou know I know the sun will always shine,\nBut, baby, please stop crying--it's tearing up my mind."}
{"name": "Is Your Love in Vain?", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "Do you love me or are you just extending goodwill?\nDo you need me half as bad as you say or are you just feeling guilt?\nI've been burned before and I know the score, so you won't hear me complain.\nWill I be able to count on you or is your love in vain?\n\nAre you so fast that you cannot see that I must have solitude?\nWhen I am in the darkness, why do you intrude?\nDo you know my world, do you know my kind, or must I explain?\nWill you let me be myself or is your love in vain?\n\nWell, I've been to the mountain and I've been in the wind,\nI've been in and out of a-happiness,\nI have dined with kings, I've been offered wings,\nAnd I've a-never been too impressed.\n\nAlright, I'll take a chance, I will fall in love with you.\nIf I'm a fool, you can have the night - you can have the morning, too.\nCan you cook and sew, make flowers grow, do you understand my pain?\nAre you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?\n\nCan you cook and sew, make flowers grow, do you understand my pain?\nAre you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?"}
{"name": "Se\u00f1or (Tales of Yankee Power)", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "Senor, Senor, can you tell me where we're heading,\nLincoln County Road or Armageddon?\nSeem like I been down this way before,\nIs there any truth in that, Senor?\n\nSenor, Senor, do you know where she's hiding?\nHow long are we gonna be riding?\nHow long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?\nWill there be any comfort there, Senor?\n\nThere's a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deck,\nThere's an Iron Cross still hanging down from around her neck,\nThere's a marching band still playing in that vacant lot\nWhere she held me in her arms one time and said, \"Forget me not.\"\n\nSenor, Senor, I can see that painted wagon,\nSmell the tail of the dragon,\nCan't stand the suspense anymore--\nCan you tell me who to contact here, Senor?\n\nWell, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled\nWas that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field,\nA gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring,\nShe said, \"Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing.\"\n\nSenor, Senor, you know, their hearts're as hard as leather,\nWell, give me a minute, let me get it together,\nJust gotta pick myself up off the floor.\nI'm ready when you are, Senor.\n\nSenor, Senor, let's overturn these tables,\nDisconnect these cables--\nThis place don't make sense to me no more!\nCan you tell me what we're waiting for, Senor?"}
{"name": "True Love Tends to Forget", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "I'm getting weary looking in my baby's eyes,\nWhen she's near me, she's so hard to recognize,\nBut I finally realize there's no room for regret:\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget.\n\nHold me, baby, be near,\nYou told me that you'd be sincere,\nBut every day of the year like playing Russian roulette.\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget.\n\nI was lying down in the reeds without any oxygen,\nI saw you in the wilderness among the men,\nI saw you drift into infinity and come back again,\nAll you got to do is wait and I'll tell you when.\nYou're a tearjerker, baby, but I'm under your spell,\nYou're a hard worker, baby, but I know you well\nAnd this weekend in hell is making me sweat.\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget.\n\nI was lying down in the reeds without any oxygen,\nI saw you in the wilderness among the men,\nSaw you drift into infinity and come back again,\nAll you got to do is wait and I'll tell you when.\nYou belong to me, baby, without a doubt,\nDon't forsake me, baby, don't sell me out,\nDon't keep me knocking about from Mexico to Tibet.\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget,\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget,\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget,\nTrue love, true love, true love tends to forget."}
{"name": "We Better Talk This Over", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "I think we better talk this over,\nMaybe when we both get sober,\nYou'll understand I'm only a man doing the best that I can.\n\nThis situation can only get rougher,\nWhy should we needlessly suffer?\nLet's call it a day, go our own different ways before we decay.\n\nYou don't have to be afraid of looking a-into my face,\nWe've done nothing to each other time will not erase.\n\nI feel displaced, I got a low-down feeling:\nYou been two-faced, you been double-dealing.\nI took a chance, got caught in the trance of a downhill dance.\n\nOh, child, why you wanna hurt me?\nI'm exiled, you can't convert me,\nI'm lost in the haze of your delicate ways with both eyes glazed.\n\nYou don't have to yearn for love, you don't have to be alone,\nSomewheres in this universe there's a place that you can call home.\n\nI guess I'll be leaving tomorrow\nIf I have to beg, steal, or borrow,\nIt'd be great to cross paths in a day and a half, look at each other and laugh.\n\nBut I don't think it's liable to happen -\nLike the sound of a-one hand clapping:\nThe vows that we kept are now broken and swept 'neath the bed where we slept.\n\nDon't think of me and fantasize on what we've never had,\nBe grateful for what we've shared together and be glad.\n\nWhy should we go on watching each other through a telescope?\nEventually we'll hang ourselves on all this tangled rope.\n\nOh, baby, time for a new transition,\nI wish I a-was a magician,\nI would wave a wand and tie back the bond that we've both gone beyond."}
{"name": "Where Are You Tonight (Journey through Dark Heat)", "album": "Street-Legal", "album_year": "1978", "text": "There's a long distance train rolling through the rain,\nTears on the letter that I write,\nThere's a woman I long to touch and I'm missing her so much,\nBut she's drifting like a satellite,\nThere's a neon light ablaze in a green, smoky haze\nAnd laughter down on Elizabeth Street,\nThere's a lonesome bell-tone in that valley of stone,\nWhere she bathed in a stream of pure heat.\nHer father would emphasize you got to be more than streetwise,\nBut he practiced what he preached from the heart,\nA full-blooded Cherokee, he predicted it to me,\nThe time and the place that we'd part.\nThere's a babe in the arms of a woman in a rage\nAnd a longtime, golden-haired stripper onstage\nAnd she winds back the clock and she turns back the page of a book that nobody can write--\nOh, where are you tonight?\n\nThe truth was obscure, too profound and too pure,\nTo live it you had to explode.\nIn that last hour of need we entirely agreed:\nSacrifice was the code of the road.\nI left town at dawn with Marcel and St. John,\nStrong men belittled by doubt,\nI couldn't tell her what my private thoughts were,\nBut she had some way of finding them out.\nHe took dead-center aim, but he missed just the same,\nShe was waiting, putting flowers on the shelf.\nShe could feel my despair as I climbed up her hair\nAnd discovered her invisible self.\nThere's a lion in the road, there's a demon escaped,\nThere's a million dreams gone, there's a landscape being raped\nAs her beauty fades and I watch her undrape--well, I won't, but then maybe again I might--\nOh, if I could just find you tonight!\n\nI fought with my twin, that enemy within,\nTill both of us fell by the way,\nHorseplay and disease is killing me by degrees\nWhile the law looks the other way.\nYour partners in crime hit me up for nickels and dimes,\nThe man you were loving could never get clean.\nIt felt out of place, my foot in his face,\nBut he shoulda stayed where his money was green.\nI bit into the root of forbidden fruit\nWith the juice running down my leg,\nI've dealt with your boss, who'd never known about loss,\nWho always was too proud to beg.\nThere's a white-diamond gloom on the dark side of this room\nAnd a pathway that leads up to the stars.\nIf you don't believe there's a price for this sweet paradise,\nJust remind me to show you the scars.\nThere's a new day at dawn and I've finally arrived,\nIf I'm there in the morning, baby, you'll know I've survived--\nI can't believe it! I can't believe I'm alive, but without you it doesn't seem right--\nOh, where are you tonight?"}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Shelter from the Storm", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood,\nBlackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud,\nI came in from the wilderness a creature void of form:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nIf I pass this way again, you can rest assured,\nI'll always a-do my best for her, on that I give my word:\nIn a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be born,\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI was burned out from exhaustion, I was buried in the hail,\nPoisoned in the bushes, blown out on the trail,\nHunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nSuddenly I turned around, she was standing there\nWith silver bracelets on her wrists, flowers in her hair,\nShe walked up to me so gracefully and she took my crown of thorns,\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nWell, I've heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove\nAnd old men with broken teeth, stranded, without love -\nDo I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nThe deputy walks on a-hard nails and the preacher rides a mount,\nNothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts\nAnd the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nIn a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes,\nI offered for salvation and they give me a lethal dose,\nI offered up my innocence, got repaid with scorn:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\"\n\nI'm living in a foreign country, but I'm bound to cross the line,\nBeauty walks on a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine\nIf I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born:\n\"Come in,\" she said, \"I'll give you shelter from the storm.\""}
{"name": "Love Minus Zero/No Limit", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "My love, she speaks like silence,\nWithout ideals or violence,\nDoesn't have to say she's faithful,\nYet she's true like ice, like fire.\nPeople carry roses,\nMake promises by the hour,\nMy love, she laughs like the flowers,\nValentines can't buy her.\n\nIn the dimestores and bus-stations\nPeople talk over situations,\nRead books and repeat quotations,\nDraw conclusions on the wall.\nSome speak of the future,\nMy love, she speaks softly,\nKnows there's no success like failure\nAnd that failure's no success at all.\n\nCloak and dagger dangles,\nMadams light the candles,\nIn ceremonies of the horsemen\nEven a pawn must hold a grudge.\nStatues made of matchsticks\nCrumble into one another,\nMy love winks, she doesn't bother,\nShe knows too much to argue or to judge.\n\nThe bridge at midnight trembles,\nThe country doctor rambles,\nBankers' nieces seek perfection,\nExpecting all the gifts that wise men bring.\nThe wind howls like a hammer,\nThe night blows cold and rainy,\nMy love, she's like some raven\nAt my window with a broken wing."}
{"name": "Ballad of a Thin Man", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand,\nYou see someone naked and you say, \"Who is that man?\"\nYou try so hard, but you don't understand\nJust what you're gonna say when you get home.\nBut something is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou sneak into the window and you say, \"Is this where it is?\"\nSomebody points his finger at you and says, \"It's his.\"\nAnd you say, \"What's mine?\" Someone else says, \"Where what is?\"\nYou say, \"Oh, my God, am I here all alone?\"\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in your ticket to go see the geek,\nWho walks up to you when he hears you speak\nAnd says, \"How does it feel to be such a freak?\"\nAnd you say, \"Impossible!\" as he hands you a bone.\nSomething is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou have many contacts out there among the lumberjacks\nTo get you facts if someone attacks your imagination.\nAnd no one has any respect, anyway they just expect\nYou to hand over your check to tax-deductible charity organizations.\n\nThe sword swallower walks up to you and he kneels,\nHe crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels,\nAnd without further notice asks you how it feels\nAnd says, \"Here's your throat back. Thanks for the loan.\"\nSomething is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou crawl into the room like a camel and you frown,\nYou put your eyes in your pocket and you put your nose into the ground.\nThere oughtta be a law against you coming around,\nYou got to be made to be wearing a telephone.\nBut something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"}
{"name": "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIf'n you don't know by now,\nIt ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIt don't matter anyhow.\nWhen your rooster crows at the break of dawn,\nLook out your window, I'll be gone,\nYou're the reason I'm a-traveling on,\nDon't think twice, it's alright, babe,\nDon't think twice, it's alright.\n\nIt ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nThe light I never knowed,\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nI'm on the dark side of the road.\nStill, I wish there was something that you would do or say\nTo try and make me change my mind and stay,\nBut we never did too much talking anyway,\nDon't think twice, it's alright, babe,\nDon't think twice, it's alright.\n\nIt ain't no use in calling out my name, babe,\nLike you never did before,\nAnd it ain't no use in calling out my name, babe,\nI can't a-hear you anymore.\nI'm a-thinking and a-wondering, walking all the way down the road,\nI once loved a woman that's a child, I'm told,\nI give her my heart, but she wanted my soul,\nDon't think twice, it's alright, babe,\nDon't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo, I'm a-walking down that long, lonesome road, babe,\nWhere I'm bound I can't tell,\nBut goodbye's too good a word, babe,\nSo I'll just say, \"Fare thee well.\"\nI ain't saying you treated me unkind,\nYou coulda done better, but I don't mind,\nYou just kinda wasted my precious time,\nDon't think twice, it's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nIt's alright,\nWell, so don't think twice, it's alright."}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain,\nGot a head full of ideas that are driving me insane,\nIt's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nHe hands you a nickel and he hands you a dime,\nAsks you with a grin, \"Are you having a good time?\"\nThen he fines you every time you slam the door.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nTalks to servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody says he's the brains behind ma.\n68, but says he's 24.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nWell, she puts her cigar out in my face just for kicks,\nHer bedroom window, it is made outta bricks.\nThe National Guard stands around the door.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nI try my best to be just like I am,\nEverybody wants you to be just like them,\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave -- I get bored.\n\nThank you, that was called \"Maggie's Farm\"."}
{"name": "One More Cup of Coffee (Valley Below)", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Your breath is sweet, your eyes are like two jewels in the sky,\nYour back is straight, your hair is smooth on the pillow where you lie,\nI don't sense affection - no, no gratitude or love,\nYour loyalty is a-not to me but to the stars above.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour daddy, he's an outlaw and a wanderer by trade,\nHe'll teach you how to pick and choose and how to throw the blade,\nHe oversees his kingdom, where no stranger does intrude,\nHis voice, it trembles as he calls out for another plate of food.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour sister sees the future like your mama and yourself,\nShe never learned to read or write, there's no books upon her shelf,\nAnd her pleasure knows no limits, her voice is like a meadowlark,\nBut her heart is like an ocean, so mysterious and dark.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee before I go to the valley below.\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall\" - you thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out;\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging around for your next meal -\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nYou gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it,\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd you find out now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis,\nYou stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down to do tricks for you,\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat -\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he's taken everything that he can steal?\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nPrincess on the steeple and all pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts and things,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring down and pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used -\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse:\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose -\nYou're invisible, you've got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel,\nHow does it feel,\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "They say everything can be replaced,\nYet every distance is not near,\nSo I remember every face\nOf every man who put me here.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nYonder down here in this lonely crowd\nThere's a man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him crying out so loud,\nCrying out that he been framed.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, oh, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nThey say every man need protection,\nThey tell me every man must fall,\nBut I swear I see my reflection\nSomewhere so high above this wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, oh, any day now, I shall be released,\nI shall be released,\nI shall be released,\nI shall be released,\nI shall be released.\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Is Your Love in Vain?", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Here's an unrecorded song. See if you can guess which one it is.\n\nDo you love me or are you just extending goodwill?\nDo you need me half as bad as you say or are you just feeling guilt?\nI've been burned before and I know the score, so you won't hear me complain.\nWill I be able to count on you or is your love in vain?\n\nAre you so fast that you cannot see that I must have solitude?\nWhen I am in the darkness, why must you intrude?\nDo you know my world, do you know my kind, or must I explain?\nWill you let me be myself or is your love in vain?\n\nWell, I've been to the mountain and I've been in the wind,\nI've been in and out of happiness,\nI have dined with kings, I've been offered wings,\nAnd I've never been too impressed.\n\nAlright, I'll take a chance, I will fall in love with you.\nIf I'm a fool, you can have the night - you can have the morning, too.\nCan you cook and sew, make flowers grow, do you understand my pain?\nAre you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?\n\nCan you cook and sew, make flowers grow, do you understand my pain?\nAre you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Going, Going, Gone", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Well, I just reached a place where I can't stay awake,\nI got to leave you, baby, before my heart will break,\nI'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nCome over here, baby, 'cause I'm telling you this,\nYou got to believe it, you gotta give me one more kiss,\nI'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nFix me one more drink, baby, and hold me one more time,\nBut don't get too close to make me change my mind,\nI'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nNow, my mama always said, \"Someday, true--you gotta follow your heart,\nYou'll be grand at the end of the line:\nAll that's gold wasn't meant to shine,\nJust don't put your horse in front of your cart,\" ohh!\n\nNow, from Boston to Birmingham is a two-day ride,\nBut I got to be going now 'cause I'm so dissatisfied,\nI'm going, I'm going, I'm gone.\n\nGoing,\nGoing, going, gone,\nGoing, going,\nGoing, going, gone."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nHow many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nHow many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it's washed to the sea?\nHow many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nHow many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nHow many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nHow many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nHow many deaths will it take till he knows\nToo many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain,\nEverybody knows baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows\nHave fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman\nAnd she aches just like a woman\nAnd she makes love just like a woman,\nBut she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend, yes, I believe I'll go see her again,\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she sees finally that she's just like all the rest\nIn her fog with her amphetamine and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman\nAnd she aches just like a woman\nAnd she makes love just like a woman,\nBut she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying there of thirst, so I came in here\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here,\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just don't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nWhen we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when\nI was a-hungry and it was your world.\nWell, you fake just like a woman\nAnd you take just like a woman,\nYou even make love just like a woman,\nBut you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Oh, Sister", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Oh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms,\nYou should not treat me like a stranger,\nOur Father would not like the way that you act\nAnd you must realize the danger.\n\nOh, sister, am I not a brother to you?\nAnd one deserving of affection?\nAnd is our purpose not the same on this earth,\nTo love and follow His direction?\n\nWe grew up together from the cradle to the grave,\nWe died and were reborn and then mysteriously saved.\nOh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nDon't turn away, you'll create sorrow.\nTime is an ocean, but it ends at the shore:\nYou may not see me tomorrow."}
{"name": "Simple Twist of Fate", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Here's a simple love story, happened to me.\n\nThey sat together in the park as the evening sky got dark,\nShe looked at him, he felt a spark tingle to her bones,\n'Twas then she felt alone and wished that she'd gone straight\nAnd watched out for a simple twist of fate.\n\nThey walked along by the old canal, little confused - I remember well,\nStopped into a renovated hotel with a neon burning bright,\nShe felt the heat of the night hit her like a freight\nTrain, moving with a simple twist of fate.\n\nA saxophone someplace played, she was walking on by the arcade,\nShe heard the melody rise and fade, the sun was coming up,\nShe dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate\nAnd forgot about a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe woke up and she was gone, he didn't see nothing but the dawn,\nGot out of bed and put his clothes back on, pushed back the blind,\nFound a note she'd left behind, but he could not concentrate\nOn anything 'cept a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe hears the ticking of the clocks, walks alone through the city blocks,\nHunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in,\nMaybe he'll see her once again - how long must he wait\nOne more time for a simple twist of fate?\n\nPeople tell me it's a crime to remember her for too long a time,\nShe should've caught me in my prime, she would've stayed with me\n'Stead of going back off to sea and leaving me to meditate,\nThey call, that simple twist of fate.\n\nAlright, that's straight from Chicago."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "This is from the Mojave Desert.\n\n\"There must be some way outta here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it's worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour's getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.\n\nThanks."}
{"name": "I Want You", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "The gypsy undertaker cries, the lonesome organ-grinder sighs,\nThe silver saxophones say I should refuse you.\nThe cracked bells and washed-out horns blow into my face with scorn,\nBut it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nThe drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep\nAnd the saviors, who are fast asleep, they wait for you.\nAnd I wait for them to interrupt me drinking from this broken cup\nAnd ask me to open up the gate for you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nWell, all my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nAnd all their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nI return to the Queen of Spades, talk with her chambermaid,\nShe knows that I'm not afraid to look at her.\nShe is good to me, there's a-nothing she doesn't see,\nShe knows where I'd like to be, but it doesn't matter.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you."}
{"name": "All I Really Want to Do", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "I ain't looking to make you cry,\nSee you fly or watch you die,\nI don't care if you feel like me,\nSee like me or be like me.\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't want to meet your kin,\nMake you spin or do you in,\nAnd I don't want to drag you down,\nChain you down or be your clown.\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you.\n\nI don't care if you analyze me,\nCategorize me or hypnotize me,\nAnd I don't care if you feel like me,\nSee like me or be like me.\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do,\nAll I really wanna do\nIs, baby, be friends with you,\nFriends with you,\nFriends with you.\n\nAlright, thank you."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't fire them anymore.\nThat long, black train is pulling down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMa, wipe the blood from my face,\nI can't see through it anymore.\nIt's a feeling that I just can't trace,\nFeel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nAlright, thank you very much."}
{"name": "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "This is called \"It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)\".\n\nDarkness at the break of noon\nShadows even the silver spoon,\nThe handmade blade, the child's balloon,\nEclipses both the sun and moon -\nTo understand you know too soon that there is no sense in trying.\n\nPointed threats, they bluff with scorn,\nSuicide remarks are torn\nFrom the fool's gold mouthpiece, the hollow horn\nPlays wasted words, it proves to warn\nHe not a-busy being born is a-busy dying.\n\nTemptation's page flies out the door,\nYou follow, find yourself at war,\nWatch a-waterfalls of pity roar,\nFeel to moan, but unlike before\nYou discover that you'd just a-be one more person crying.\n\nSo, don't fear if you hear\nA foreign sound to your ear,\nIt's alright, ma, I'm only sighing.\n\nSome warn victory, some downfall,\nPrivate reasons - great or small -\nCan be seen in the eyes of those that call\nTo make all that should be killed to crawl,\nOthers say, \"Don't hate nothing at all except a-hatred.\"\n\nDisillusioned words a-like a-bullets bark,\nHuman gods aim for their mark,\nMake everything from toy guns that spark\nTo flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark -\nIt's easy to see without looking too far that not much is really sacred.\n\nWhile preachers preach of evil fates,\nTeachers teach that knowledge waits,\nCan lead you to hundred-dollar plates,\nGoodness hides behind its gates,\nEven the president of the United States sometimes a-must have to stand naked.\n\nBut, though the rules of the road have been lodged,\nIt's people's games that you got to dodge,\nIt's alright, ma, I can make it.\n\nAdvertising signs, they con,\nCon you into thinking that you're the one\nThat can do what's a-never been done,\nThat can win what's a-never been won -\nMeantime life outside goes on all around you.\n\nYou lose yourself, but then you reappear,\nYou suddenly find you've got nothing to fear,\nAlone you stand with nobody near\nWhen a trembling, distant voice, unclear,\nStartles your ears to hear somebody thinks that they really have found you.\n\nA question in your nerves is lit,\nYet you know that there is no answer fit\nTo satisfy, ensure you not to quit,\nKeep it in your mind and don't forget\nThat it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to.\n\nBut, though the masters make the rules\nFor the wise men and the fools,\nI got nothing, ma, to live up to.\n\nOld-lady judges watch people in pairs,\nLimited in sex they dare\nPush fake morals, insult, and stare\nWhile money doesn't talk, it swears,\nObscenity - who really cares? - propaganda all is phony.\n\nWhile them that defend what they cannot see\nWith a killer's pride, security,\nIt blows their minds a-most a-bitterly,\nFor them that think death--death's honesty\nWon't fall upon 'em naturally, life sometimes must get lonely.\n\nMy eyes collide head-on with stuffed\nGraveyards and false goals, I scuff\nAt pettiness, which plays so rough,\nWalk upside-down inside handcuffs,\nKick my legs to crash it off,\nSay, \"Alright, I've had enough, what else can you show me?\"\n\nAnd, if my thought-dreams could be seen,\nThey'd probably put my head in a guillotine,\nBut it's alright, ma, it's life and life only.\n\nThank--"}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Alright, once again, it's that time of the hour we have to run.\n\nMay God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars, climb on every rung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up a-to be true,\nAnd may you always a-know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always a-be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation a-when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "Bob Dylan at Budokan", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Thank you, you're so very kind, you really are. We will play you this song - I wrote this also about fifteen years ago, it still means a lot to me, I know it means a lot to you, too.\n\nCome gather round, people, wherever you roam,\nAdmit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, a-writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nKeep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling a-who that it's naming\nFor the loser now might be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThere's a battle outside and it's raging,\nIt'll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn and the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is a-rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThank you. I'll be here for four more nights, then we'll see you again."}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "You may be an ambassador to England or France,\nYou may like to gamble, you might like to dance,\nYou may be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nYou may be a socialite with a long string of pearls,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a rock-and-roll addict prancing on the stage,\nMight have drugs at your command, women in a cage,\nYou may be a businessman or some high-degree thief,\nThey may call you \"doctor\" or they may call you \"chief\",\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a state trooper, you might be a Young Turk,\nMay be the head of some big TV network,\nYou may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a construction worker working on a home,\nMight be living in a mansion, you might live in a dome,\nYou may own guns and you may even own tanks,\nYou may be somebody's landlord, you may even own banks,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it a-may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a preacher preaching spiritual pride,\nMay be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,\nMay be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,\nYou may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMight like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,\nMight like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,\nMight like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,\nMay be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nNow, you may call me Terry or you may call me Timmy,\nYou may call me Bobby or you may call me Zimmy,\nYou may call me R.J., you may call me Ray,\nYou may call me anything, don't matter what you say,\nYou're still gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil and it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "Precious Angel", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Precious angel under the sun,\nHow was I to know you'd be the one\nTo show me I was blinded, to show me I was gone?\nHow weak was the foundation I was standing upon?\nNow there's spiritual warfare, flesh and blood breaking down,\nYou either got faith or you got unbelief and there ain't no neutral ground.\nThe enemy is subtle: how be it we're deceived\nWhen the truth's in our hearts and we still don't believe?\n\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nYou know, I just couldn't make it by myself, I'm a little too blind to see.\n\nMy so-called friends have fallen under a spell,\nThey look me squarely in the eye and they say, \"Well, all is well.\"\nCan they imagine the darkness that will fall from on high\nWhen men will beg God to kill them and they won't be able to die?\nSister, let me tell you about a vision that I saw:\nYou were drawing water for your husband, you were suffering under the law,\nYou were telling him about Buddha, you were telling him 'bout Muhammad in one breath,\nYou never mentioned one time the man who came and died a criminal's death.\n\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nYou know, I just couldn't make it by myself, I'm a little too blind to see.\n\nPrecious angel, you believe me when I say,\n\"What God has given to us no man can take away\"?\nWe are covered in blood, girl, you know, both our forefathers were slaves,\nLet us hope they've found mercy in their bone-filled graves.\nYou're the queen of my flesh, girl, you're my woman, you're my delight,\nYou're the lamp of my soul, girl, and you torch up the night,\nBut there's violence in the eyes, girl, so let us not be enticed\nOn the way out of Egypt through Ethiopia to the judgment-hall of the Christ.\n\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nShine your light, shine your light on me,\nYou know, I just couldn't make it by myself, I'm a little too blind to see."}
{"name": "I Believe in You", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "They ask me how I feel\nAnd if my love is real\nAnd how I know I'll make it through\nAnd they--they look at me and frown,\nThey'd like to drive me from this town,\nThey don't want me around 'cause I believe in you.\n\nThey--they show me to the door,\nThey say don't come back no more\n'Cause I don't be like they'd like me to\nAnd I--I walk out on my own,\nA thousand miles from home,\nBut I don't feel alone 'cause I believe in you.\n\nI believe in you even through the tears and the laughter,\nI believe in you even though we be apart,\nI believe in you even on the morning after,\nOh, when the dawn is nearing,\nOh, when the night is disappearing,\nOh, this feeling's still here in my heart.\nDon't let me drift too far,\nKeep me where you are,\nWhere I will always be renewed,\nAnd that which you've given me today\nIs worth more than I could pay\nAnd, no matter what they say, I believe in you.\n\nI believe in you when winter turns--turns to summer,\nI believe in you when white turn to black,\nI believe in you even though I be outnumbered,\nOh, though the earth may shake me,\nOh, though my friends forsake me,\nOh, even that couldn't make me go back.\nDon't let me change my heart,\nKeep me set apart\nFrom all the plans they do pursue\nAnd I--I don't mind the pain,\nDon't mind the driving rain,\nI know I will sustain 'cause I believe in you."}
{"name": "Slow Train", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Sometimes feel so low-down and disgusted,\nCan't help but wonder what's happening to my companions:\nAre they lost or are they found? Have they counted the cost it'll take to bring down\nAll their earthly principles they're gonna have to abandon?\nAnd there's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nI had a woman down in Alabama,\nShe was a backwoods girl, but she sure was realistic,\nShe said, \"Boy, without a doubt, have to quit your mess and straighten out,\nYou could die down here, be just another accident statistic.\"\nAnd there's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nAll that foreign oil controlling American soil -\nLook around you, it's just bound to make you embarrassed!\nSheiks walking around like kings, wearing fancy jewels and nose-rings,\nDeciding America's future from Amsterdam into Paris -\nAnd there's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nMan's ego's inflated, his laws are outdated,\nThey don't apply no more, you can't rely no more to be standing around waiting.\nIn the home of the brave, Jefferson turning over in his grave,\nFools glorify themselves trying to manipulate Satan -\nAnd there's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nBig-time negotiators, false healers, and woman-haters,\nMasters of the bluff and masters of the proposition,\nBut the enemy I see wears a cloak of decency,\nAll non-believers and men-stealers talking in the name of religion -\nAnd there's a slow--there's a slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nPeople starving and thirsting, grain elevators are bursting -\nWell, you know, it costs more to store the food than it do to give it!\nThey say, \"Lose your inhibition, follow your own ambition\",\nThey talk about a life of brotherly love - show me someone who knows how to live it!\nThere's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend.\n\nWell, my baby went to Illinois with some bad-talking boy she could destroy,\nA real suicide case, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.\nI don't care about economy, I don't care about astronomy,\nBut it sure does bother me to see my loved ones turning into puppets -\nAnd there's a slow, slow train coming up around the bend."}
{"name": "Gonna Change My Way of Thinking", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Change my way of thinking, bring myself a different set of rules,\nGonna change my way of thinking, bring myself a different set of rules,\nGonna put my good foot forward, stop being influenced by fools.\n\nSo much oppression, can't keep track of it no more,\nSaid there's so much oppression, can't keep track of it no more,\nSons becoming husbands to their mothers, old men turning young daughters into whores.\n\nStripes on your shoulder, stripes on your back and on your hand,\nStripes on your shoulder, stripes on your back and on your hand,\nSwords piercing your side, blood and water flowing through the land.\n\nWell, don't know which one is worse - doing your own thing or just being cool,\nDon't know which is worse - doing your own thing or being cool,\nYou remember only 'bout the brass ring, you're forgetting all about the golden rule.\n\nYou can mislead a man, you can take a hold of his heart with your eyes,\nYou can mislead a man, take hold of his heart with your eyes,\nBut there's only one authority - that's the authority on high.\n\nI got a God-fearing woman, one I can easily afford,\nI got a God-fearing woman, one I can easily afford,\nShe can do the Georgia Crawl, she can walk in the spirit of the Lord.\n\nJesus said, \"Be ready for you know not the hour which I come\",\nJesus said, \"Be ready for you know not the hour which I come\",\nHe said, \"Who's not for me is against me\", just so you know where He's coming from.\n\nThere's a kingdom called Heaven, a place where there is no pain of birth,\nThere's a place--they call it Heaven, a place where there is no pain of birth,\nWell, the Lord created it, mister, about the same time that He made the earth."}
{"name": "Do Right to Me Baby", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Don't wanna judge nobody, don't wanna be judged,\nDon't wanna touch nobody, don't wanna be touched,\nDon't wanna hurt nobody, don't wanna be hurt,\nDon't wanna treat nobody like they was dirt,\nBut, if you do right to me, baby, I'll do right to you too,\nGot to do unto others like you'd have them--like you'd have them do unto you.\n\nDon't wanna shoot nobody, don't wanna be shot,\nDon't wanna buy nobody, don't wanna be bought,\nDon't wanna bury nobody, don't wanna be buried,\nDon't wanna marry nobody if they're already married,\nBut, if you do right to me, baby, I'll do right to you too,\nGot to do unto others like you'd have them--like you'd have them do unto you.\n\nDon't wanna burn nobody, don't wanna be burned,\nDon't wanna learn from nobody what I gotta unlearn,\nDon't wanna cheat nobody, I don't wanna be cheated,\nDon't wanna defeat nobody if already been defeated,\nBut, if you do right to me, baby, I'll do right to you too,\nGot to do unto others like you'd have them--like you'd have them do unto you.\n\nDon't wanna wink at nobody, I don't wanna be winked at,\nDon't wanna be used by nobody for a doormat,\nDon't wanna confuse nobody, don't wanna be confused,\nDon't wanna amuse nobody, I don't wanna be amused,\nBut, if you do right to me, baby, I'll do right to you too,\nGot to do unto others like you'd have them--said like you'd have them do unto you.\n\nDon't wanna betray nobody, don't wanna be betrayed,\nDon't wanna play with nobody, don't wanna be waylaid,\nDon't wanna miss nobody, don't wanna be missed,\nDon't put my faith in nobody, not even a scientist,\nBut, if you do right to me, baby, I'll do right to you too,\nYou got to do unto others like you'd have them--like you'd have them do unto you."}
{"name": "When You Gonna Wake Up", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "God don't make promises that He don't keep,\nYou got some big dreams, baby, but in order to dream you gotta still be asleep.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?\n\nCounterfeit philosophies have polluted all of your thoughts,\nKarl Marx has got you by the throat and Henry Kissinger's got you tied up into knots.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?\n\nYou got innocent men in jail, your insane asylums are filled,\nYou got unrighteous doctors dealing drugs that'll never kill your ills.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?\n\nYou got men who can't hold their peace, women who can't control their tongue,\nThe rich seduce the poor and the old are seduced by the young.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?\n\nAdulterers in churches and pornography in the schools,\nYou got gangsters in power and lawbreakers making rules.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up and strengthen the things that remain?\n\nSpiritual advisors and gurus to guide your every move,\nInstant inner peace and every step you take's got to be approved.\nWhen you gonna wake up, said when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?\n\nDo you ever wonder just what God requires?\nYou think He's just an errand boy to satisfy your wandering desires?\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up and strengthen the things that remain?\n\nYou can't take it with you and you know it's too worthless to be sold,\nThey tell you \"Time is money\" as if your life was worth its weight in gold.\n\nThere's a Man on a cross and He be crucified for you,\nBelieve in His power - that's about all you got to do.\nWhen you gonna wake up, when you gonna wake up,\nWhen you gonna wake up, strengthen the things that remain?"}
{"name": "Man Gave Names to All the Animals", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "Man gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, long time ago.\n\nHe saw an animal that liked to growl, big furry paws and he liked to howl,\nGreat, big, furry back and furry hair - \"Ah, think I'll call it a bear.\"\n\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, long time ago.\n\nHe saw an animal up on a hill chewing up so much grass until he was filled,\nHe saw milk coming out, but he didn't know how - \"Ah, think I'll call it a cow.\"\n\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, a long time ago.\n\nHe saw an animal that liked to snort, horns on his head and they weren't too short,\nIt looked like there wasn't nothing that he couldn't pull - \"Ah, think I'll call it a bull.\"\n\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, long time ago.\n\nHe saw an animal leaving a muddy trail, real dirty face and a curly tail,\nHe wasn't too small and he wasn't too big - \"Ah, think I'll call it a pig.\"\n\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, long time ago.\n\nNext animal that he did meet had wool on his back and hooves on his feet,\nEating grass on a mountainside so steep - \"Oh, think I'll call it a sheep.\"\n\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, in the beginning,\nMan gave names to all the animals in the beginning, long time ago.\n\nHe saw an animal as smooth as glass slithering his way through the grass,\nHe saw him disappear by a tree near a lake -"}
{"name": "When He Returns", "album": "Slow Train Coming", "album_year": "1979", "text": "The iron hand, it ain't no match for the iron rod,\nThe strongest wall will crumble and fall to a mighty god.\nFor all those who have eyes and all those who have ears,\nIt is only He who can reduce me to tears.\nDon't you cry and don't you die and don't you burn:\nLike a thief in the night He'll replace wrong with right when He returns.\n\nTruth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through,\nHe unleashed His power at an unknown hour that no one knew.\nHow long can I listen to the lies of prejudice?\nHow long can I stay drunk on fear out in the wilderness?\nCan I cast it aside, all this loyalty and this pride?\nWill I ever learn that there'll be no peace, that the war won't cease until He returns?\n\nSurrender your crown on this bloodstained ground, take up off your mask,\nHe sees your deeds, He knows your needs even before you ask.\nHow long can you falsify and deny what is real?\nHow long can you hate yourself for the weakness you conceal?\nOf every earthly plan that be known to man He is unconcerned,\nHe's got plans of His own to set up His throne when a-He returns."}
{"name": "A Satisfied Mind", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "How many times have you heard someone say,\n\"If I had his money, I'd do things my way\"?\nHmm, but little they know, hmm, it's so hard to find\nOne rich man in ten with a satisfied mind.\n\nOnce I was wading in fortune and fame,\nEverything that I dreamed of to get a start in life's game.\nHmm, suddenly, it happened, hmm, I lost every dime,\nBut I'm richer by far with a satisfied mind.\n\nWhen my life is over and my time has run out,\nMy friends and my loved ones I'll leave, there's no doubt,\nBut one thing for certain: when it come my time,\nI'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind."}
{"name": "Saved", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "I was blinded by the devil, born already ruined,\nStone-cold dead as I stepped out of the womb,\nBy His grace I have been touched, by His word I have been healed,\nBy His hand I've been delivered, by His spirit I've been sealed.\nI've been saved by the blood of the lamb,\nSaved by the blood of the lamb,\nSaved,\nSaved,\nAnd I'm so glad,\nYes, I'm so glad,\nWell, I'm so glad,\nSo glad,\nI wanna thank You, Lord,\nWanna thank You, Lord,\nWanna thank You, Lord.\n\nBy His truth I can be upright, by His strength I do endure,\nBy His power I've been lifted, in His love I am secure\nFor He bought me with a price, freed me from the pit\nFull of emptiness and wrath and the fire that burns in it.\nI've been saved - well, alright,\nSaved by the blood of the lamb,\nSaved,\nAnd I'm so glad - I'm glad,\nSo glad,\nThank You, Lord,\nI just wanna thank You, Lord - well.\n\nNobody to rescue me, nobody would dare,\nI'm going down for the last time, but by His mercy I've been spared,\nNot by works, by faith in Him who called,\nFor so long I've been hindered, for so long I've been stalled.\nBut I'm saved,\nYes, I've been saved by the blood of the lamb - well,\nI'm so glad,\nSo glad,\nAlright, I'm so glad,\nI wanna thank You, Lord,\nI just wanna thank You, Lord,\nYes, I do wanna thank You, Lord,\nThank You, Lord,\nI thank the Lord,\nI just wanna thank You, Lord."}
{"name": "Covenant Woman", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "Covenant woman got a contract with the Lord\nWay up yonder, great will be her reward,\nCovenant woman, shining like a morning star,\nI know I can trust you to stay the way you are.\nYes, and I just gotta tell you that I do intend\nTo stay closer than any friend,\nYes, and I just got to thank you once again\nFor making your prayers known unto heaven for me\nAnd to you always so grateful I will forever be.\n\nI've been broken, shattered like an empty cup,\nI'm just waiting on the Lord to rebuild and fill me up,\nAnd I know that He will do it 'cause He's faithful and He's true,\nHe must have loved me oh! so much to send me someone as fine as you.\nYes, and I just gotta tell you I do intend\nTo stay closer--closer than any friend,\nYes, and I just got to thank you once again\nFor making your prayers known unto heaven for me\nAnd to you always so grateful I will forever be.\n\nCovenant woman, intimate, little girl,\nWho knows those most secret things of me that are hidden from the world,\nYou know that we are strangers in a land we passing through,\nI'll always be right by your side, I've got a covenant, too.\nYes, and I just got to tell you that I do intend\nTo stay closer than any friend,\nYes, and I just got to thank you once again\nFor making your prayers known unto heaven for me\nAnd to you always so grateful I will forever be."}
{"name": "What Can I Do for You?", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "You have given everything to me,\nWhat can I do for You?\nYou have given me eyes to see,\nWhat can I do for You?\n\nPulled me out of bondage and You made me renewed inside,\nFilled up the hunger that had always been denied,\nOpened up a door no man can shut and You opened it up so wide,\nAnd You chosen me to be among the few,\nWhat can I do for You?\n\nYou have laid down Your life for me,\nWhat can I do for You?\nYou have explained every mystery,\nWhat can I do for You?\n\nSoon as a man is born, you know, the sparks begin to fly,\nHe gets wise in his own eyes and he's made to believe a lie.\nWho would deliver him from the death he's bound to die?\nWell, You've done it all and there's no more anyone can pretend to do,\nWhat can I do for You?\n\nYou have given all there is to give,\nWhat can I give to You?\nYou have given me life to live,\nHow can I live for You?\n\nI know all about poison, I know all about fiery darts,\nI don't care how rough the road is, show me where it starts,\nWhatever pleases You, tell it to my heart -\nWell, I don't deserve it, but I sure did make it through,\nWhat can I do for You?"}
{"name": "Solid Rock", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "Well, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of the world,\nAnd I won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nFor me He was chastised, for me He was hated,\nFor me He was rejected by a world that He created.\nNations are angry, cursed are some,\nPeople are expecting a false peace to come.\nWell, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of--of the world,\nAnd I won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nIt's the ways of the flesh to war against the spirit,\nTwenty-four hours a day you can feel it and you can hear it,\nUsing every angle under the sun,\nAnd it never give up till the battle's lost or won.\nWell, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of--of the world,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go."}
{"name": "Pressing On", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "Well, I'm pressing on,\nYes, I'm pressing on,\nWell, I'm pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nSaid I'm pressing on,\nWell, I'm pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nPressing on,\nPressing on,\nYou know, I'm pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nMany try to stop me, shake me up in my mind,\nSay, \"Prove to me that He's Lord, show me a sign.\"\nWhat kind of sign they need when it all come from within,\nWhen what's lost has been found, what's to come has already been?\nI just keep pressing on,\nPressing on,\nWell, I'm pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nPressing on,\nPressing on - well, I can't turn 'round,\nPressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nShake the dust off of your feet, don't look back,\nNothing can hold you down, nothing that you lack.\nTemptation's not an easy thing, Adam given the devil reign\n'Cause he sinned, I got no choice, it run in my vein,\nBut I'm pressing on,\nPressing on - oh, yes, I am!\nPressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nWell, I'm pressing on,\nOh, yes, I'm pressing on,\nOoh, pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord.\n\nPressing on,\nPressing on - yeah, leading the way!\nI'm pressing on to the higher calling of my Lord."}
{"name": "In the Garden", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "When they came for Him in the garden, did they know?\nWhen they came for Him in the garden, did they know?\nDid they know He was the son of God, did they know that He was Lord?\nDid they hear when He told Peter, \"Peter, put up your sword\"?\nWhen they came for Him in the garden, did they know?\nWhen they came for Him in the garden, did they know?\n\nWhen they heard him speak in the city, did they hear?\nWhen He spoke to them in the city, did they hear?\nNicodemus came at night, so he wouldn't be seen by men,\nSaying, \"Master, tell me why a man must be born again.\"\nWhen He spoke to them in the city, did they hear?\nWhen He spoke to them in the city, did they hear?\n\nWhen He healed the blind and crippled, did they see?\nWhen He healed the blind and crippled, did they see?\nWhen He said, \"Pick up your bed and walk!\", why must you criticize?\n\"Same thing my father do I can do likewise.\"\nWhen He healed the blind and crippled, did they see?\nWhen He healed the blind and crippled, did they see?\n\nDid they speak out against Him, did they dare?\nDid they speak out against Him, did they dare?\nThe multitude wanted to make Him king, put a crown upon His head,\nWhy did He slip away to a quiet place instead?\nDid they speak out against Him, did they dare?\nDid they speak out against Him, did they dare?\n\nWhen He rose from the dead, did they believe?\nWhen He rose from the dead, did they believe?\nHe said-a, \"All power is given to Me in heaven and on earth\" -\nDid they know right then and there what that power was worth?\nWhen He rose up from the dead, did they believe?\nWhen He rose from the dead, did they believe?"}
{"name": "Saving Grace", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "If You find it in Your heart, can I be forgiven?\nGuess I owe You some kind of apology.\nI've escaped death so many times I know I'm only living\nBy the saving grace that's over me.\n\nBy this time I'd'a thought that I would be sleeping\nIn a pine box for all eternity,\nMy faith keeps me alive, but I still be weeping\nFor the saving grace that's over me.\n\nWell, the death of life, then come the resurrection -\nWherever I am welcome is where I will be,\nI put all my confidence in Him, my sole protection\nIs the saving grace that's over me.\n\nWell, the devil's shining light, it can be most blinding,\nBut to search for love, that ain't no more than vanity.\nAs I look around this world, all that I'm finding\nIs the saving grace that's over me.\n\nThe wicked know no peace and you just can't fake it,\nThere's only one road and it leads to Calvary,\nIt gets discouraging at times, but I know I'll make it\nBy the saving grace that's over me."}
{"name": "Are You Ready", "album": "Saved", "album_year": "1980", "text": "Are you ready?\nAre you ready?\nAre you ready?\nAre you ready?\n\nAre you ready to meet Jesus? Are you where you oughtta be?\nWill He know you when He sees you or will He say, \"Depart from Me\"?\nAre you ready?\nHope you're ready.\nAm I ready?\nAm I ready?\nAm I ready?\nAm I ready?\n\nAm I ready to lay down my life for the brethren and to take up my cross?\nHave I surrendered to the will of God or am I still acting like the boss?\nAm I ready?\nI hope I'm ready.\n\nWhen destruction cometh swiftly and there's no time to say a fare-thee-well,\nHave you decided whether you wanna be in heaven or in hell?\nAre you ready?\nAre you ready?\n\nHave you got some unfinished business? Is there something holding you back?\nAre you thinking for yourself or are you following the pack?\nAre you ready?\nHope you're ready.\nAre you ready?\n\nAre you ready for the judgment? Are you ready for that terrible, swift sword?\nAre you ready for Armageddon? Are you ready for the day of the Lord?\nAre you ready?\nI hope you're ready."}
{"name": "Shot of Love", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "I need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love,\nDon't need a shot of heroin to kill my disease,\nDon't need a shot of turpentine - only bring me to my knees,\nDon't need a shot of codeine to help me to repent,\nDon't need a shot of whiskey help me be president,\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nDoctor, can you hear me? I need some Medicaid,\nI seen the kingdoms of the world and it's making me feel afraid,\nWhat I got ain't painful, it's just bound to kill me dead\nLike the men that followed Jesus when they put a price upon His head.\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nI don't need no alibi when I'm spending time with you,\nI've heard all of them rumors and you have heard 'em, too,\nDon't show me no picture-show or give me no book to read,\nIt don't satisfy the hurt inside, nor the habit that I feed.\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nWhy would I want to take your life?\nYou've only murdered my father, raped his wife,\nTattooed my babies with a poison pen,\nMocked my God, humiliated my friends.\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nDon't wanna be with nobody tonight,\nVeronica's not here, Mavis just ain't right.\nThere's a man that hates me and he's swift, smooth, and near:\nAm I supposed to set back and wait until he's here?\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nWhat makes the wind wanna blow tonight?\nDon't even feel like crossing the street and my car ain't acting right,\nCalled home, everybody seemed to have moved away,\nMy conscience is beginning to bother me today,\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love.\n\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love,\nI need a shot of love,\nIf you're a doctor, I need a shot of love."}
{"name": "Heart of Mine", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Heart of mine, be still,\nYou can play with fire, but you'll get the bill.\nDon't let her know,\nDon't let her know that you love her,\nDon't be a fool, don't be blind,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, go back home,\nYou got no reason to wander, no reason to roam.\nDon't let her see,\nDon't let her see that you need her,\nDon't put yourself over the line,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, go back where you been,\nIt only trouble for you if you let her in.\nDon't let her hear,\nDon't let her hear where you're going,\nDon't untie the ties that bind,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, so malicious and so full of guile,\nGive you an inch and you'll take a mile.\nDon't let yourself fall,\nDon't let yourself stumble,\nYou can't do the time, don't do the crime,\nHeart of mine."}
{"name": "Property of Jesus", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Go 'head and talk about him because he makes you doubt,\nBecause he has denied himself the things that you can't live without,\nLaugh at him behind his back just like the others do,\nRemind him of what he used to be when he comes walking through.\nHe's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone.\n\nStop your conversation when he passes on the street,\nHope he falls upon himself - oh, won't that be sweet? -\nBecause he can't be exploited by superstition anymore,\nBecause he can't be bribed or bought by the things that you adore.\nHe's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone.\n\nWhen the whip that's a-keeping you in line doesn't make him jump,\nSay he's hard of hearing, say that he's a chump,\nSay he outta step with reality as you try to test his nerve\nBecause he doesn't pay tribute to the king that you serve.\nHe's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone.\n\nSay that he's a loser 'cause he got no common sense,\nBecause he don't increase his worth at someone else's expense,\nBecause he's not afraid of trying, say he's got no style,\n'Cause he doesn't tell you jokes and fairy-tales, say he's failed to make you smile.\nBut he's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone.\n\nWell, you can laugh at salvation, you can play Olympic games,\nYou think that, when you rest at last, you'll go back from where you came,\nBut you've picked up quite a story and you've changed since the womb,\nWhat happened to the real you? You've been captured, but by whom?\nHe's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone.\n\nHe's the property of Jesus,\nResent him to the bone,\nYou got something better,\nYou got a heart of stone."}
{"name": "Lenny Bruce", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Lenny Bruce is dead, but his ghost lives on and on,\nNever did get any Golden Globe Award, never made it to Synanon.\nHe was an outlaw, that's for sure,\nMore of an outlaw than you ever were.\nLenny Bruce is gone, but his spirit's living on and on.\n\nMaybe he had some problems, maybe some things that he couldn't work out,\nBut he sure was funny and he sure told the truth and he knew what he was talking about.\nNever robbed any churches, nor cut off any babies' heads;\nHe just took the folks in high places and he shined a light in their beds.\nHe's on some other shore, he didn't wanna live anymore.\n\nLenny Bruce is dead, but he didn't commit any crime,\nHe just had the insight to rip off the lid before its time.\nI rode with him in a taxi once\nOnly for a mile and a half, seemed like it took a couple of months.\nLenny Bruce moved on and yet the ones that killed him are gone.\n\nThey said that he was sick 'cause he didn't play by the rules,\nHe just showed the wise men of his day to be nothing more than fools.\nThey stamped him and they labeled him like they do with pants and shirts,\nHe fought a war on a battlefield where every victory hurts.\nLenny Bruce was bad, he was the brother that you never had."}
{"name": "Watered Down Love", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Love that's pure hopes all things,\nBelieves all things, won't pull no strings,\nWon't sneak up into your room, tall, dark, and handsome,\nCapture your soul and hold it for ransom.\nYou don't want a love that's pure,\nYou wanna drown love,\nYou want a watered-down love.\n\nLove that's pure, it don't make no false claims,\nIntercedes for you 'stead of casting you blame,\nWill not deceive you or lead you into transgression,\nWon't write it up and make you sign a false confession.\nYou don't want a love that's pure,\nYou wanna drown love,\nYou want a watered-down love.\n\nLove that's pure won't lead you astray,\nWon't hold you back, won't get in your way,\nWon't pervert you, corrupt you with foolish wishes,\nWill no--not make you envious, won't make you suspicious.\nYou don't want a love that's pure,\nYou wanna drown love,\nYou want a watered-down love.\n\nLove that's pure no accident,\nIt knows that it knows, is always content,\nAn eternal flame quietly burning,\nNever needs to be proud, loud, or restlessly yearning.\nYou don't want a love that's pure,\nYou wanna drown love,\nYou want a watered-down love.\n\nWatered-down love,\nYou want watered-down love,\nWatered-down love,\nYou want watered-down love,\nYes, you do, you know you do.\nWatered-down love,\nOh, you want watered-down love,\nYes, you do, you know you do.\nWatered-down love,\nOoh, watered-down love,\nYes, you do, you know you do.\nWatered-down love,\nOoh, you want watered-down love,\nYes, you do, you know you do.\nWatered-down love,\nOh, watered-down love,\nYou want watered-down love,\nYes, you do, you know you do..."}
{"name": "The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Prayed in the ghetto with my face in the cement,\nHeard the last moan of a boxer, seen the massacre of the innocent,\nFelt around for the light switch, felt around for her face,\nBeen treated like a farm animal on a wild-goose chase.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nTry to be pure at heart, they arrest you for robbery,\nMistake your shyness for aloofness, your silence for snobbery.\nGot the message this morning, the one that was sent to me\n'Bout the madness of becoming what one was never meant to be.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nDon't know what I could say about Claudette wouldn't come back to haunt me,\nFinally had to give her up 'bout the time she begin to want me,\nBut I know God has mercy on them who're slandered and humiliated,\nI'd a-done anything for that woman if she'd only made me feel obligated.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nPut your hand on my head, baby, do I have a temperature?\nI see people who're supposed to know better standing around like furniture,\nThere's a wall between you--what you want and you got to leap it:\nTonight you got the power to take it, tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nCities on fire, phones outta order,\nThey're killing nuns and soldiers, there's fighting on the border.\nWhat can I say about Claudette? Ain't seen her since January.\nShe could be respectably married or running a whorehouse in Buenos Aires.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar."}
{"name": "Dead Man, Dead Man", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Uttering idle words from a reprobate mind,\nClinging to strange promises, dying on the vine,\nNever being able to separate the good from the bad,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it, it's making me feel so sad.\nDead man, dead man, when will you arise,\nCobwebs in your mind, dust upon your eyes?\n\nSatan got you by the heel, there's a bird's nest in your hair.\nDo you have any faith at all? Do you have any love to share?\nThe way that you hold your head, cursing God with every move,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it, what are you trying to prove?\nDead man, dead man, when will you arise,\nCobwebs in your mind, dust upon your eyes?\n\nThe glamour and the bright lights and the politics of sin,\nThe ghetto that you build for me is the one you're living in,\nThe race of the engine that overrules your heart -\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it, pretending that you're so smart.\nDead man, dead man, when will you arise,\nCobwebs in your mind, dust upon your eyes?\n\nWhat are you trying to overpower me with, a doctrine or a gun?\nMy back's to the wall: where can I run?\nThe tuxedo that you're wearing, the flower in your lapel,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it, taking me down to hell.\nDead man, dead man, when will you arise,\nCobwebs in your mind, dust upon your eyes?\n\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,\nOoh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it..."}
{"name": "In the Summertime", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "I was in your presence for an hour or so -\nOr was it a day? I truly don't know -,\nWhere the sun never set, where the trees hung low,\nBy that soft and shining sea.\nDid you respect me for what I did?\nOr for what I didn't do? Or for keeping it hid?\nDid I lose my mind when I tried to get rid\nOf everything you see?\n\nIn the summertime, oh, in the summertime,\nIn the summertime when you were with me.\n\nI got the heart and you got the blood,\nWe cut through iron and we cut through mud,\nThen came the warning that was before the flood\nThat set everybody free.\nFools, they made a mock of sin,\nOur loyalty they tried to win,\nBut you were closer to me than my next of kin\nWhen they didn't wanna know or see.\n\nIn the summertime, oh, in the summertime,\nIn the summertime when you were with me.\n\nStrangers, they meddled in our affairs,\nPoverty and shame was theirs,\nBut all that suffering was not to be compared\nWith the glory that is to be.\nAnd I'm still carrying the gift you gave,\nIt's a part of me now, it's been cherished and saved,\nIt'll be with me unto the grave\nAnd then unto eternity.\n\nIn the summertime, oh, in the summertime,\nIn the summertime when you were with me."}
{"name": "Trouble", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm,\nYou got your rabbit's foot, you got your good-luck charm,\nBut they can't help you none when there's trouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nTrouble in the water, trouble in the air,\nGo all the way to the other side of the world, you'll find trouble there,\nRevolution [incoherent] no solution for trouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nDrought and starvation, packaging of the soul,\nPersecution, execution, governments outta control,\nYou can see the writing on the wall inviting the trouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nPut your ear to the train tracks, put your ear to the ground,\nYou ever feel like you're never alone even when there's nobody else around?\nSince the beginning of the universe, man's been cursed by trouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nNightclubs of the broken-hearted, stadiums of the damned,\nLegislature, perverted nature, doors that are rudely slammed,\nLook into infinity, all you see is trouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nTrouble,\nTrouble,\nTrouble, trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble.\n\nTrouble..."}
{"name": "Every Grain of Sand", "album": "Shot of Love", "album_year": "1981", "text": "In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need,\nWhen the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed,\nThere's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere,\nToiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.\nDon't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,\nLike Cain I now behold this chain of events that I must break.\nIn the fury of the moment I can see the master's hand\nIn every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.\n\nOh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,\nLike criminals they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer\nAnd the sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way,\nTo ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.\nI gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame\nAnd, every time I pass that way, I always hear my name.\nThen, onward in my journey, I come to understand\nThat every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.\n\nI have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night,\nIn the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light,\nIn the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,\nIn the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.\nI hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea,\nSometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.\nI am hanging in the balance of the reality of man\nLike every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand."}
{"name": "Jokerman", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Standing on the water, casting your bread\nWhile the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.\nDistant ships sailing in through the mist,\nYou were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.\nFreedom, just around the corner for you,\nBut, with the truth so far off, what good will it do?\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nSo swiftly the sun sets in the sky,\nYou rise up and say goodbye to no one.\nFools rush in where angels fear to tread,\nBoth of their futures so full of dread -- you don't show one.\nShedding off one more layer of skin,\nKeeping one step ahead from the persecutor within.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nYou're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,\nManipulator of crowds, you're a dream-twister.\nYou're going to Sodom and Gomorrah,\nBut what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister!\nFriend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,\nYou look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,\nThe law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.\nIn the smoke of the twilight, on a milk-white steed,\nMichelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.\nResting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,\nHalf asleep 'neath the stars with a small dog licking your face.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,\nPreacherman seeks the same -- who'll get there first is uncertain.\nNight-sticks and water-cannons, tear gas, padlocks,\nMolotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain.\nFalse-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,\nOnly a matter of time till night comes stepping in.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nIt's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,\nA woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet.\nHe'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,\nTake the motherless children off the street,\nAnd place them at the feet of a harlot.\nOh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,\nOh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman."}
{"name": "Sweetheart Like You", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Well, the pressure's down, the boss ain't here -\nHe gone north for a while.\nThey say that vanity got the best of him,\nBut he sure left here in style.\nBy the way, that's a cute hat\nAnd that smile's so hard to resist.\nBut, what's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?\n\nYou know, I once knew a woman who looked like you,\nShe wanted a whole man, not just a half.\nShe used to call me \"sweet daddy\" when I was only a child.\nYou kind of remind me of her when you laugh.\nIn order to deal in this game, got to make the queen disappear.\nIt's done with a flick of the wrist.\nWhat's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?\n\nYou know, a woman like you should be at home --\nThat's where you belong --\nTaking care of somebody nice\nWho don't how to do you wrong.\nJust how much abuse will you be able to take?\nWell, there's no way to tell by that first kiss.\nWhat's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?\n\nYou know, you can make a name for yourself,\nYou can hear them tires squeal,\nYou could be known as the most beautiful woman\nWho ever crawled across cut glass to make a deal.\n\nYou know, news of you has come down the line,\nEven before you came in the door.\nThey say, in your father's house there's many mansions,\nEach one of 'em got a fireproof floor.\nSnap out of it, baby. People are jealous of you.\nThey smile to your face, but behind your back they hiss.\nWhat's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?\n\nGot to be an important person to be in here, honey,\nGot to have done some evil deed.\nGot to have your own harem when you come in the door,\nGot to play your harp until your lips bleed.\n\nThey say that patriotism is the last refuge\nTo which a scoundrel clings.\nSteal a little and they throw you in jail,\nSteal a lot and they make you king.\nThere's only one step down from here, baby,\nIt's called the land of permanent bliss.\nWhat's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?"}
{"name": "Neighborhood Bully", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Well, the neighborhood bully, he's just one man,\nHis enemies say he's on their land.\nThey got him outnumbered 'bout a million to one,\nHe got no place to 'scape to, no place to run.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nNeighborhood bully, he just lives to survive,\nHe's criticized and condemned for being alive,\nNot supposed to fight back and have thick skin,\nSupposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nNeighborhood bully, been driven out of every land,\nHe's wandered the earth an exiled man,\nSeen his family scattered, people hounded and torn,\nHe's always on trial for just being born.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nWhen he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,\nOld women condemned him, said he should apologize.\nThen he destroyed a bomb factory, he--nobody was glad.\nThe bombs were meant for him, he was supposed to feel bad.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nWell, the chance is against it and the odds are slim\nThat he'll live by the rules that the world makes for him.\nThere's a noose at his neck and a gun at his back\nAnd a license to kill him given out to every maniac.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nWell, he got no allies to really speak of,\nWhat he gets he must pay for - he don't get it out of love.\nHe buys obsolete weapons and he won't be denied,\nBut no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nWell, he's surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,\nThey pray for it nightly that the bloodshed will cease,\nAnd they wouldn't hurt a fly - to hurt one, they would weep,\nThey lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nEvery empire that's enslaved him is gone -\nEgypt and Rome, even the great Babylon.\nHe's made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,\nIn bed with nobody, under no one's command.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nNow, his holiest books have been trampled upon,\nNo contract he signed was worth what was it written on.\nHe took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,\nTook sickness and disease and he turned it into health.\nHe's the neighborhood bully.\n\nWhat's anybody indebted to him for?\n\"Nothing,\" they say, \"He just like to cause war.\"\nIt's pride, and prejudice, and superstition, indeed,\nThey wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed.\nNeighborhood bully.\n\nWhat has he done to wear so many scars?\nDoes he change the course of rivers?\nDoes he pollute the moon and stars?\nNeighborhood bully, standing on a hill,\nRunning out the clock, time standing still.\nNeighborhood bully."}
{"name": "License to Kill", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Man thinks, 'cause he rules the earth, he can do with it as he please\nAnd, if things don't change soon, he will.\nOh, man has invented his doom, first step was touching the moon.\nNow, there's a woman on my block, she just sit there as the night grows still,\nShe say, \"Who gonna take away his license to kill?\"\n\nNow, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life\nAnd they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill.\nThen they bury him with stars, sell his body like they do used cars.\nNow, there's a woman on my block, she just sit there facing the hill,\nShe say, \"Who gonna take away his license to kill?\"\n\nNow, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused\nAnd his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.\nNow, all he believes are his eyes and his eyes, they just tell him lies.\nBut there's a woman on my block, sitting there in a cold chill,\nShe say, \"Who gonna take away his license to kill?\"\n\nMay be noisemaker, spirit-maker,\nHeartbreaker, backbreaker,\nLeave no stone unturned.\nMay be an actor in a plot,\nThat might be all that you got\nTill your error you clearly learn.\n\nNow, he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool\nAnd, when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.\nOh, man is opposed to fair play:\nHe wants it all and he wants it his way.\nNow, there's a woman on my block, she just sit there as the night grows still,\nShe say, \"Who gonna take away his license to kill?\""}
{"name": "Man of Peace", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Look out your window, baby, there's a scene you'd like to catch.\nBand is playing \"Dixie\", man got his hand outstretched --\nCould be the Fuhrer, could be the local priest.\nKnow that sometimes Satan, you know, he come as a man of peace.\n\nHe got sweet gift of gab, he got harmonious tongue,\nKnow every song of love that-a ever has been sung.\nGood intentions can be evil, both hands can be full of grease.\nKnow that sometimes Satan come as a man of peace.\n\nWell, first he's in the background and then he's in the front,\nBoth eyes are looking like they on a rabbit hunt.\nNobody can see through him, no, not even the Chief of Police.\nYou know that sometimes Satan come as a man of peace.\n\nWell, he catch you when you're hoping for a glimpse of the sun,\nCatch you when your troubles feel like they weigh a ton.\nHe could be standing next to you, the person that you notice least.\nI hear that sometimes Satan come as a man of peace.\n\nWell, he can be fascinating, he can be dull,\nHe can ride down Niagara Falls in the barrels of your skull.\nI can smell something cooking, I can tell there's going to be a feast.\nYou know-a sometimes Satan'll come as a man of peace.\n\nHe's a great humanitarian, he's a great philanthropist,\nHe knows just where to touch you, honey, and how you like to be kissed.\nHe'll put both his arms around you, you can feel the tender touch of the beast.\nYou know sometimes Satan'll come as a man of peace.\n\nWell, howling wolf will howl tonight, a king snake will crawl,\nTrees that've stood for a thousand years suddenly will fall.\nWanna get married? Do it now! Tomorrow all activity will cease.\nYou know-a sometimes Satan come as a man of peace.\n\nSomewhere Mama's weeping for her blue-eyed boy,\nShe's holding them little, white shoes and that little, broken toy,\nAnd he's following a star, the same one them three men followed from the East.\nI hear sometimes Satan come as a man of peace, oh, yeah!"}
{"name": "Union Sundown", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Well, my shoes, they come from Singapore,\nMy flashlight's from Taiwan,\nMy tablecloth's from Malaysia,\nMy belt buckle's from the Amazon.\nYou know, this shirt I wear comes from the Philippines\nAnd the car I drive is a Chevrolet.\nIt was put together down in Argentina\nBy a guy making thirty cents a day.\n\nWell, it's sundown on the union and what's made in the USA.\nSure was a good idea till greed got in the way.\n\nWell, this silk dress is from Hong Kong\nAnd the pearls are from Japan.\nWell, the dog collar's from India\nAnd the flowerpot's from Pakistan.\nAll the furniture, it say \"Made in Brazil\",\nWhere a woman, she slaved for sure,\nBringing home thirty cents a day to a family of twelve -\nYou know, that's a lotta money to her.\n\nWell, it's sundown on the union and what's made in the USA.\nSure was a good idea till greed got in the way.\n\nWell, you know, lots of people complaining that there is no work.\nI say, \"Why you say that for\nWhen nothing you got is US-made?\"\nThey don't make nothing here no more.\nYou know, capitalism is above the law,\nIt say, \"It don't count 'less it sell.\"\nWhen it costs too much to build it at home,\nYou just build it cheaper someplace else.\n\nWell, it's sundown on the union and what's made in the USA.\nSure was a good idea till greed got in the way.\n\nWell, the job that you used to have,\nThey gave it to somebody down in El Salvador.\nWell, the unions are big business, friend,\nAnd they're going out like a dinosaur.\nWell, they used to grow food in Kansas,\nNow they wanna grow it on the moon and eat it raw.\nI can see the day coming when even your home garden\nIs gonna be against the law.\n\nWell, it's sundown on the union and what's made in the USA.\nSure was a good idea till greed got in the way.\n\nDemocracy don't rule the world --\nYou'd better get that in your head.\nThis world is ruled by violence,\nBut I guess that's better left unsaid.\nFrom Broadway to the Milky Way,\nThat's a lot of territory indeed.\nAnd a man's gonna do what he has to do\nWhen he's got a hungry mouth to feed.\n\nWell, it's sundown on the union and what's made in the USA.\nSure was a good idea till greed got in the way."}
{"name": "I and I", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.\nLook how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams.\nIn another lifetime, she must have owned the world or been faithfully wed\nTo some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's a-nature neither honors, nor forgives.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man sees my face and lives.\"\n\nThink I'll go out and go for a walk --\nNot much happening here, nothing ever does.\nBesides, if she wakes up now, she'll just want me to talk.\nI got nothing to say, 'specially about whatever was.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's a-nature neither honors, nor forgives.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and lives.\"\n\nTook an untrodden path once where the swift don't win the race.\nIt goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.\nTook a stranger to teach me to look into justice's beautiful face\nAnd to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's nature neither honors, nor forgives.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man sees my face and lives.\"\n\nOutside of two men on a train platform, there's nobody in sight.\nThey're waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.\nThe world could come to an end tonight, but that's alright.\nShe should still be there sleeping when I get back.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's nature neither honors, nor forgives.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man sees my face and lives.\"\n\nNoontime and I'm still pushing myself along the road -- the darkest part --\nInto the narrow lanes, I can't stumble or stay put.\nSomeone else is speaking with my mouth, but I'm listening only to my heart.\nI've made shoes for everyone -- even you -- while I still go barefoot.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's nature neither honors, nor forgives.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and lives.\""}
{"name": "Don't Fall Apart on Me Tonight", "album": "Infidels", "album_year": "1983", "text": "Just a minute 'fore you leave, girl,\nJust a minute 'fore you touch the door.\nWhat is it that you're trying to achieve, girl?\nDo you think we can talk about it some more?\nYou know, the streets are filled with vipers\nWho've lost all ray of hope,\nYou know, it's not even safe no more\nIn the palace of the Pope.\n\nDon't fall apart on me tonight,\nI just don't think that I could handle it.\nDon't fall apart on me tonight.\nYesterday's just a memory,\nTomorrow's never what it's supposed to be,\nAnd I need you, yeah.\n\nCome over here from over there, girl.\nSit down here, you can have my chair.\nI can't see us going anywhere, girl --\nThe only place open is a thousand miles away and I can't take you there.\nI wish I'd have been a doctor,\nMaybe I'd'a saved some life that been lost,\nMaybe I'd'a done some good in the world\n'Steada burning every bridge I crossed.\n\nDon't fall apart on me tonight,\nI just don't think that I could handle it.\nDon't fall apart on me tonight.\nYesterday is just a memory,\nTomorrow's never what it's supposed to be,\nAnd I need you, ah, yeah.\n\nI ain't too good at conversation, girl,\nSo you might not know exactly how I feel.\nBut, if I could, I'd bring you to the mountain-top, girl,\nAnd build you a house made outta stainless steel.\nBut it's like I'm stuck inside a painting\nThat's a-hanging in the Louvre -\nMy throat starts to tickle and my nose itches,\nBut I know that I can't move.\n\nDon't fall apart on me tonight,\nI just don't think that I could handle it.\nDon't fall apart on me tonight.\nYesterday's gone, but the past live on,\nTomorrow's just one step beyond,\nAnd I need you, ah.\n\nWho are these people that are walking towards you?\nDo you know them or will there be a fight?\nWith their humorless smile so easy to see through,\nCan they tell you what's wrong from what's right?\nOr do you remember St. James Street,\nWhere you blew Jackie P.'s mind?\nYou were so fine Clark Gable would have fell at your feet\nAnd laid his life on the line.\n\nLet's try to get beneath the surface waste, girl,\nNo more booby traps and bombs, no more decadence and charm,\nNo more affection that's misplaced, girl,\nNo more mudcake creatures lying in your arms.\nWhat about that millionaire\nWith the drumsticks in his pants?\nHe looked so baffled and so bewildered\nWhen he played and we didn't dance.\n\nDon't fall apart on me tonight,\nI just don't think that I could handle it.\nDon't fall apart on me tonight.\nYesterday's just a memory,\nTomorrow's never what it's supposed to be,\nAnd I need you, yeah, you, ah, I need you."}
{"name": "Highway 61 Revisited", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "God said to Abraham, \"Kill me a son.\"\nAbe said, \"Man, you must be putting me on.\"\nGod said, \"No.\" Abe said, \"What?\"\nGod said, \"You can do what you want, Abe, but\nNext time you see me coming you better run.\"\nAbe said, \"Where you want this killing done?\"\nGod said, \"On Highway 61.\"\n\nGeorgia Sam, he had a bloody nose,\nWelfare Department wouldn't give him no clothes.\nHe asked poor Howard, \"Where can I go?\"\nHoward said, \"There's only one place I know.\"\nSam said, \"Tell me quick, man! I got to run.\"\nHoward just pointed off a-with his gun:\n\"That way down Highway 61.\"\n\nMack the Finger said to Louis the King,\n\"I got forty red, white, and blue shoestrings\nAnd a thousand telephones that don't ring.\nDo you know where I can get rid of these things?\"\nLouis the King said, \"Let me think for a minute, son.\"\nThen said, \"Yeah, I think it can be easily done.\nTake it on down to Highway 61.\"\n\nFifth daughter on the twelfth night\nTold the first father that things weren't right.\n\"My complexion,\" she said, \"is much too white.\"\nHe said, \"Come over here, girl, step into the light.\"\nHe -- \"Yeah, you're right. Let me tell your mother this has been done.\"\nBut the second mom was with the seventh son\nAnd they were both out on Highway 61.\n\nRoving gambler, he was very bored\nTrying to create a next world war.\nHe found a promoter nearly fell on the floor.\n\"No, I never did engage in this kinda thing before,\nBut, yeah, I think it can be very easily done.\nWe'll just put some bleachers out in the sun,\nHave it on Highway 61.\""}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nSaid I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain,\nGot a head full of ideas driving me insane.\nIt's a shame the way she make me scrub the floor.\nAin't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nHe fine you a nickel, he fine you a dime,\nAsk you with a grin, \"You having a good time?\"\nThen he fine you every time you slam the door.\nAin't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nWell, he puts his cigar out your face just for kicks,\nHis bedroom window is made outta bricks.\nWell, the National Guard stands around his door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nSaid I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nWell, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody tells me she's the brains behind pa.\n68, but says she's 24.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I try my best to be just like I am,\nEverybody wants you to be just like them,\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave -- I get bored.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more."}
{"name": "I and I", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.\nLook how sweet she sleep, how free must be her dream.\nIn another lifetime, she must have owned the world or been faithfully wed\nTo some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlight stream.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's nature neither honor, nor forgive.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and live.\"\n\nI think I'll go out and go for a walk --\nNot much happening here, nothing ever does.\nIf she wake up now, you know, she'll just a-want me to talk.\nI got nothing to say, 'specially about whatever was.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's a-nature neither honor, nor forgive.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and live.\"\n\nOutside of two men on the train tracks, there nobody in sight,\nAnd they're waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.\nThe world could come to an end tonight, but that's alright.\nShe should still be there sleeping when I get back.\n\nI and I, in creation where one's nature neither honor, nor forgive.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and live.\"\n\nNoontime and I'm still on the road, on the darkest part,\nInto the narrow lanes where I can't stumble or stay put.\nSomeone else is speaking with my mouth, but I'm listening only to my heart.\nI've made shoes for everyone - even you - while I still go barefoot.\n\nI and I, creation where one's nature neither honor, nor forgive.\nI and I, one said to the other, \"No man see my face and live.\""}
{"name": "License to Kill", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Man thinks, 'cause he rules the earth, he can do with it as he please\nAnd, if things don't change soon, he will.\nOh, man has invented his doom, first step was touching the moon.\nWell, there's a woman on my block, she'll just sit there facing the hill,\nShe say, \"Who take away his license to kill?\"\n\nWell, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life\nAnd they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill.\nThen they bury him in stars, sell his body like they do used cars.\nWell, there's a woman on my block, she'll just sit there facing the hill,\nShe say, \"Who take away his license to kill?\"\n\nWell, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused\nAnd his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.\nAll he believes are his eyes and his eyes, they just tell him lies.\nWell, there's a woman on my block, she just sit there facing the hill,\nShe'll say, \"Who take away his license to kill?\"\n\nMay be noisemaker, spirit-maker,\nHeartbreaker, backbreaker,\nLeave no stone unturned.\nMay be an actor in a plot,\nThat might be all that you got\nTill your error you clearly learn.\n\nWell, he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool\nAnd, when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.\nMan is opposed to fair play:\nHe wants it all and he wants it his way.\nWell, there's a woman on my block, she'll just sit there facing the hill,\nShe say, \"Who take away his license to kill?\"\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nNever weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nStep lightly from the ledge, babe,\nStep lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI would only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back into the night, babe,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nPick you up every time you fall,\nSomeone to get you flowers constantly\nAnd to come every time you call,\nA lover for your life, but nothing more,\nAnd it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was a-laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said that their lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd he was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on his shoes,\nHeading out for the old East Coast, radio blasting the news straight on through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when they first met to a man four times her age,\nHe left her penniless in a state of regret - it was time to bust outta the cage.\nAnd they drove that car as far as they could, abandoned it out west,\nSplitting up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing that it was best.\nShe turned around to look at him as he was a-walking away,\nSaying, \"I wish I could tell you all the things that I never learned how to say.\"\nHe said, \"That's alright, babe, I love you too,\nBut we were tangled up in blue.\"\n\nHe had a steady job and a pretty face and everything seemed to fit.\nOne day he could just feel the waste, he put it all down and split\nAnd he drifted down to New Orleans where they treated him like a boy,\nHe nearly went mad in Baton Rouge, he nearly drowned in Delacroix.\nAnd all the while he was alone, the past was close behind,\nHe had a-one too many lovers and none of 'em were too refined - all except for you,\nBut you were tangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in the blinding light and I stopped in for a drink,\nI just kept looking at her face so white, I didn't know what to think.\nLater on, when the crowd thinned out, I was getting ready to leave,\nShe was standing there right beside my chair, said, \"What's that you got up your sleeve?\"\nI said, \"Nothing, baby, and that's for sure.\" She leaned down into my face,\nI could feel the heat and the pulse of her as she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was snow all winter and no heat, revolution was in the air,\nTill one day all of his slaves ran free, something inside of him died.\nThe only thing I could do was be me and get on that train and ride.\nAnd when it all came crashing down, I was already south,\nI didn't know whether the world was flat or round, I had the worst taste in my mouth that I ever knew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going on back again, maybe tomorrow or maybe next year,\nI gotta find someone among the women and men whose destiny is unclear.\nSome're masters of illusion, some're ministers of the trade,\nAll under strong delusion, all of their beds're unmade.\nMe, I'm still heading towards the sun, trying to stay outta the joint,\nWe always did love the very same one, we just saw her from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Masters of War", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Come, you masters of war, you that build the big guns,\nYou that build the death planes, you that build the big bombs-a,\nYou that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks,\nI just want you to know I can a-see through your mask.\n\nYou that never done nothing but build to destroy,\nYou play with my world like it's your little toy,\nPut a gun in my hand and you hide from my eyes,\nAnd you turn and run farther when the fast bullets a-fly.\n\nLike Judas of old, you lie and deceive,\nA world war can be won, you want me to believe,\nBut I see through your eyes and I see through your brain\nLike I see through the water that runs down my drain.\n\nYou fasten the trigger for the others to fire,\nThen you set back and watch while the death count gets higher,\nYou hide in your mansion while the young people's blood\nFlows outta their bodies and is buried in the mud.\n\nLet me ask you one question: Is your money that good?\nWill it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?\nI think you will find, when your death takes its toll,\nAll of your [incomprehensible] and let's talk about your soul.\n\nAnd I hope that you die and your death will come soon,\nI will follow your casket on the pale afternoon\nAnd I'll watch while you're lowered down to your deathbed\nAnd I'll stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're dead."}
{"name": "Ballad of a Thin Man", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand,\nSee somebody naked, you say, \"Who is that man?\"\nYou try so hard, but you don't understand\nWhat you'll say when you get home.\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in a back door to go--\"Is this--this where it is?\"\nSomebody points his finger at you and says, \"It's his.\"\nYou say, \"What's mine?\" Someone else says, \"Where what is?\"\nYou say, \"Oh, no, am I here all alone?\"\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in your ticket to go see the geek,\nWho walks up to you when he hears you speak\nAnd says, \"How does it feel to be such a freak?\"\nYou say, \"Impossible!\" as he hand you a--a bone.\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou have many contacts out there among the lumberjacks,\nGet you facts when someone attacks your imagination.\nNo one has any respect, anyway they just expect\nYou to sign your check to tax-deductible charity organizations, oh!\n\nYou walk into the room like a camel and you frown,\nYou put your eyes in your pocket, you put your nose in the ground.\nThere oughtta be a law against you coming around,\nRemember before you come, at least please first telephone.\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\nSomething is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"}
{"name": "Girl from the North Country", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "If you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to one who lives there -\nShe once was a true love of mine.\n\nIf you go when the snowflakes storm,\nWhen the rivers freeze and summer ends,\nSee for me if she's wearing her coat so warm\nTo keep her from the howling winds.\n\nSee for me if her hair is hanging long,\nIf it rolls and flows all down her breast.\nSee for me if her hair is hanging long -\nThat's the way I remember her best.\n\nI'm a-wondering if she remembers me at all,\nMany times I've often prayed\nIn the darkness of my night,\nIn the brightness of my day.\n\nSo, if you're traveling in the north country fair,\nWhere the winds hit heavy on the borderline,\nRemember me to one who lives there -\nShe once was a true love of mine."}
{"name": "Tombstone Blues", "album": "Real Live", "album_year": "1984", "text": "Well, the sweet, pretty things are in bed now of course,\nThe city fathers, they're trying to endorse\nReincarnation of Paul Revere's horse,\nBut the town has no need to be nervous.\n\nWell, the ghost of Belle Starr, she hand down her wits\nTo Jezebel, the nun, she violently knits\nA bald wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits\nAt the head of the Chamber of Commerce.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDad's in the hallway looking hard for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues - oh, well!\n\nThe hysterical bride in the penny arcade,\nScreaming, she moans, \"I've just been made!\"\nSend for the doctor, who pull down the shade,\nSaying, \"Don't let the boys in.\"\n\nWell, the medicine man come and then he shuffles inside,\nWalk with a swagger and he say to the bride:\n\"Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride,\nYou won't die, it's not poison!\"\n\nMama's in a factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDad's in a alley looking hard for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues - oh, ah! Yeah!\n\nJohn the Baptist, after torturing a thief,\nLooks at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief.\n\"Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief,\nIs there a hole for me to get sick in?\"\n\nWell, the Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly.\n\"Death to all those that--who would whimper and cry!\"\nDropping a barbell, he point to the sky.\n\"The sun not yellow, it's chicken!\"\n\nOh, mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDad's in the hallway looking hard for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues - oh, well!\n\nWhere Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll,\nTuba players now rehearse around the flagpole,\nNational Bank is selling road-maps to the soul\nTo the old folks' home and the college.\n\nWell, I wish that I could write you a melody so plain\nThat'd ease you, dear lady, from going insane,\nEase you and cool you and cease the pain\nOf your useless and pointless knowledge.\n\nMama in a factory ,she ain't got no shoes,\nDad's in a hallway looking hard for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues - oh, yeah!"}
{"name": "Tight Connection to My Heart (Has Anybody Seen My Love)", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, I had to move fast and I couldn't with you around my neck.\nI said I'd send for you and I did - what did you expect?\nMy hands are sweating and we haven't even started yet.\nI'll go along with the charade until I can think my way out.\nI know it was all a big joke, whatever it was all about.\nSomeday maybe I'll remember to forget.\nI'm gonna get my coat - I feel the breath of a storm.\nThere's something I've gotta do tonight - you go inside and stay warm.\n\nHas anybody seen my love?\nHas anybody seen my love?\nHas anybody seen my love?\nI don't know.\nHas anybody seen my love?\n\nYou want to talk to me, go ahead and talk,\nWhatever you got to say to me won't come as any shock.\nI must be guilty of something, you just whisper it into my ear.\nMadame Butterfly, she lulled me to sleep\nIn a town without pity where the water runs deep,\nShe said, \"Be easy, baby, there ain't nothing worth stealing in here.\"\nYou're the one I've been looking for, you're the one that's got the key,\nBut I can't figure out whether I'm too good for you or are you too good for me.\n\nHas anybody seen my love?\nAh, has anybody seen my love?\nHas anybody seen my love?\nI don't know.\nHas anybody seen my love?\n\nWell, they're not showing any lights tonight and there's no moon,\nThere's just a hot-blooded singer singing \"Memphis in June\",\nAnd they're beating the devil out of a guy who's wearing a powder-blue wig.\nLater he'll be shot for resisting arrest,\nI can still hear his voice crying in the wilderness,\nWhat looks large from a distance close up ain't never that big.\nI never could learn to drink that blood and call it wine,\nI never could learn to hold you, love, and call you mine.\n\nHas anybody seen my love?\nHas anybody seen my love?\nHas anybody seen my love?\nI don't know.\nHas anybody seen my love?\n\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby.\nHoney, baby.\nBaby, baby..."}
{"name": "Seeing the Real You at Last", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, I thought that the rain would cool things down, but it looks like it don't.\nI'd like to get you to change your mind, but it looks like you won't.\nFrom now on I'll be busy, ain't going nowhere fast,\nI'm just glad it's over, I'm seeing the real you at last.\n\nWell, I risked my neck for you. Didn't I take chances?\nDidn't I rise above all the most unfortunate circumstances?\nWell, I have had some rotten nights, didn't think that they would pass,\nI'm just thankful and grateful to be seeing the real you at last - oh!\n\nI'm hungry and I'm irritable and I'm tired of this bag of tricks.\nAt one time, there was nothing wrong with me that you could not fix.\nWell, I sailed through the storm strapped to the mast,\nBut our time has come and I'm seeing the real you at last.\n\nWhen I met you, baby, you didn't show no visible scars,\nYou could ride like Annie Oakley, you could shoot like Belle Starr.\nWell, I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble - trouble always comes to pass,\nAll I care, though, 'bout now is if I'm seeing the real you at last - oh, yes, I am!\n\nWell, I'm gonna quit this baby-talk now - I guess I should have known.\nI got troubles, I think maybe you got troubles, I think maybe we'd better leave each other alone.\nWhatever you gonna do please do it fast,\nI'm still trying to get used to seeing the real you at last - oh, yes, I am!"}
{"name": "I'll Remember You", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "I'll remember you\nWhen I've forgotten all the rest.\nYou to me were true,\nYou to me were the best.\nWhen there is no more,\nYou cut to the core\nQuicker than anyone I knew.\nWhen I'm all alone\nIn the great unknown,\nI'll remember you.\n\nI'll remember you\nAt the end of the trail.\nI had so much left to do,\nI had so little time to fail.\nThere's some people that\nYou don't forget\nEven though you only seen 'em one time or two.\nWhen the roses fade\nAnd I'm in the shade,\nI'll remember you.\n\nDidn't I-didn't I try to love you?\nDidn't I-didn't I try to care?\nDidn't I sleep, didn't I weep beside you\nWith the rain blowing in your hair, oh?\n\nI'll remember you\nWhen the wind blows through the piney wood.\nIt was you who came right through,\nIt was you who understood.\nThough I'd never say\nThat I done it the way\nThat you'd have liked me to,\nIn the end,\nMy dear, sweet friend,\nI'll remember you."}
{"name": "Clean-Cut Kid", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Everybody's asking why he couldn't adjust -\nAdjust to what? A dream that bust?\nThey took a clean-cut kid\nAnd they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nThey said what's up is down, they said what isn't is,\nThey put ideas in his head that he thought were his.\nThey took a clean-cut kid,\nBut they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nHe was on the baseball team, he was in the marching band,\nWhen he was ten years old, he had a watermelon stand.\nHe was a clean-cut kid\nAnd they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nThey said, \"Listen, boy, you're just a pup\",\nThey sent him to a napalm health spa to shape up.\nThey gave him dope to smoke, drinks and pills,\nJeep to drive, blood to spill.\nThey said \"Congratulations, you got what it takes\",\nThey sent him back into the rat race without any brakes.\nThey took a clean-cut kid\nAnd they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nHe bought the American dream, but it put him in debt,\nOnly game he could play was Russian roulette.\nHe drank Coca-Cola, he was eating Wonder Bread,\nHe ate Burger Kings, he was well fed.\nHe went to Hollywood to see Peter O'Toole,\nHe stole a Rolls Royce and drove it in a swimming pool.\nThey took a clean-cut kid,\nBut they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nHe could've sold insurance, owned a restaurant or bar,\nHe could've been an accountant or a tennis star.\nHe's wearing boxing gloves, he took a dive one day\nOff the Golden Gate Bridge into China Bay.\nHis mama walks the floor, his daddy weeps and moans,\nThey gotta sleep together in a home they don't own.\nThey took a clean-cut kid\nAnd they made a killer outta him is what they did.\n\nNow, everybody's asking why he didn't adjust:\nAll he ever wanted was somebody to trust.\nThey took his head and turned it inside out,\nHe never did know what it was all about.\nHe had a steady job, he joined the choir,\nHe never did plan to walk the high wire.\nThey took a clean-cut kid\nAnd they made a killer outta him is what they did."}
{"name": "Never Gonna Be the Same Again", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Now you're here beside me, baby, you're a living dream,\nAnd, every time you get this close, it makes me want to scream.\nYou touched me and you knew that I was warm for you and, then,\nI ain't never gonna be the same again.\n\nSorry if I hurt you, baby, sorry if I did,\nSorry if I touched the place where your secrets are hid,\nBut you meant more than everything and I could not pretend\nI ain't never gonna be the same again.\n\nYou give me something to think about, baby, every time I see you.\nDon't worry, baby, I don't mind leaving, I'd just like it to be my idea.\n\nYou taught me how to love you, baby, and you taught me oh so well,\nNow I can't go back to what was, baby, I can't unring the bell.\nYou took my reality and cast it to the wind\nAnd I ain't never gonna be the same again.\n\nCome on, baby.\nCome on, darling.\nYou're too hot, darling.\nCome on, baby.\nCome on, honey.\nYou're my baby.\nYou're my honey.\nYou got it, baby.\nCome on, baby..."}
{"name": "Trust Yourself", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Trust yourself,\nTrust yourself to do the things that only you know best.\nTrust yourself,\nTrust yourself to do what's right and not be second-guessed.\nDon't trust me to show you beauty when beauty may only turn to rust.\nIf you need somebody you can trust, trust yourself.\n\nTrust yourself,\nTrust yourself to know the way that will prove true in the end.\nTrust yourself,\nTrust yourself to find the path where there is no if and when.\nDon't trust me to show you the truth when the truth may only be ashes and dust.\nIf you want somebody you can trust, trust yourself.\n\nWell, you're on your own - you always were - in a land of wolves and thieves,\nDon't put your hope in ungodly men or be a slave to what somebody else believes.\n\nOh, trust yourself\nAnd you won't be disappointed when vain people let you down.\nTrust yourself\nAnd look not for answers where no answers can be found.\nDon't trust me to show you love when my love may be only lust.\nIf you want somebody you can trust, trust yourself.\n\nOh, you got to trust yourself.\nOh, you got to trust yourself.\nOh, you got to trust yourself.\nOh, you got to trust yourself, yeah!\nOh, you got to trust yourself.\nOh, you got to trust yourself.\nTrust yourself.\nTrust yourself.\nTrust yourself.\nOh, you got to trust yourself..."}
{"name": "Emotionally Yours", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Come, baby, find me, come, baby, remind me of where I once begun,\nCome, baby, show me, show me you know me, tell me you're the one.\nI could be learning, you could be yearning to see behind closed doors,\nBut I will always be emotionally yours.\n\nCome, baby, rock me, come, baby, lock me into the shadows of your heart,\nCome, baby, teach me, come, baby, reach me, let the music start.\nI could be dreaming, but I keep believing you're the one I'm living for\nAnd I will always be emotionally yours.\n\nIt's like my whole life never happened, when I see you it's as if I've never had a thought,\nI know this dream, it might be crazy, but it's the only one I've got.\n\nCome, baby, shake me, come, baby, take me, I would be satisfied,\nCome, baby, hold me, come, baby, help me, my arms are open wide.\nI could be unraveling wherever I'm traveling, even to foreign shores,\nBut I will always be emotionally yours."}
{"name": "When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Look out across the fields, see me returning,\nSmoke is in your eyes, you draw a smile\nFrom the fireplace where my letters to you are burning,\nYou've had time to think about it for a while.\nWell, I've walked two hundred miles, look me over,\nIt's the end of the chase and the moon is high,\nIt won't matter who loves who - you'll love me or I'll love you -\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nI can see through your walls and I know you're hurting,\nSorrow covers you up like a cape,\nOnly yesterday I know that you've been flirting\nWith disaster you somehow managed to escape.\nI can't provide for you no easy answers.\nWho are you that I should have to lie?\nYou'll know all about it, love, it'll fit you like a glove\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nI can hear your trembling heart beat like a river,\nYou must have been protecting someone last time I called,\nI never asked you for nothing that you couldn't deliver,\nI never asked you to set yourself up for a fall.\nI saw thousands who could have overcome the darkness,\nFor the love of a lousy buck I watched them die.\nStick around, baby, we're not through, don't look for me, I'll see you\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nIn your teardrops I can see my own reflection,\nIt was on the northern border of Texas where I crossed the line,\nI don't wanna be a fool starving for affection,\nI don't wanna drown in someone else's wine.\nFor all eternity I think I will remember\nThat icy wind that's howling in your eye,\nYou will seek me and you'll find me in the wasteland of your mind\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nWell, I sent you my feelings in a letter,\nBut you were gambling for support,\nThis time tomorrow I'll know you better\nWhen my memory is not so short.\nThis time I'm asking for freedom,\nFreedom from a world which you deny,\nAnd you'll give it to me now, I'll take it anyhow\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling,\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky."}
{"name": "Something's Burning, Baby", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Something is burning, baby, are you aware?\nSomething is the matter, baby, there's smoke in your hair.\nAre you still my friend, baby? Show me a sign.\nIs the love in your heart for me turning blind?\n\nYou've been avoiding the main streets for a long, long while,\nThe truth that I'm seeking is in your missing file.\nWhat's your position, baby? What's going on?\nWhy is the light in your eyes nearly gone?\n\nI know everything about this place - or so it seems -\nBut am I no longer a part of your plans or your dreams?\nWell, it is so obvious that something has changed:\nWhat's happening, baby, to make you act so strange?\n\nSomething is burning, baby, here's what I say,\nEven the bloodhounds of London couldn't find you today.\nI see the shadow of a man, baby, making you blue.\nWho is he, baby, and what's he to you?\n\nWe've reached the edge of the road, baby, where the pasture begins,\nWhere charity is supposed to cover up a multitude of sins,\nBut where do you live, baby, and where is the light?\nWhy are your eyes just staring off in the night?\n\nI can feel it in the night, in the night, in the night when I think of you,\nI can feel it in the light, in the light, in the light and it's got to be true.\nYou can't live by bread alone, you won't be satisfied,\nYou can't roll away the stone if your hands are tied.\n\nGot to start some place, baby. Can you explain?\nPlease don't fade away on me, baby, like the midnight train.\nAnswer me, baby - a casual look will do:\nJust what in the world has come over you?\n\nI can feel it in the wind, in the wind, in the wind and it's upside down,\nI can feel it in the dust as I get off the bus on the outskirts of town.\nI've had the Mexico City blues since the last hairpin curve,\nI don't wanna see you bleed, I know what you need and it ain't what you deserve.\n\nSomething is burning, baby, something's in flames,\nThere's a man going 'round calling names.\nRing down when you're ready, baby, I'm waiting for you,\nI believe in the impossible, you know that I do."}
{"name": "Dark Eyes", "album": "Empire Burlesque", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Oh, the gentlemen are talking\nAnd the midnight moon is on the riverside,\nThey're drinking up and walking\nAnd it is time for me to slide.\nI live in another world\nWhere life and death are memorized,\nWhere the earth is strung with lovers' pearls\nAnd all I see are dark eyes.\n\nA cock is crowing far away\nAnd another soldier's deep in prayer,\nSome mother's child has gone astray,\nShe can't find him anywhere.\nBut I can hear another drum\nBeating for the dead that rise,\nWhom nature's beast fears as they come,\nAnd all I see are dark eyes.\n\nThey tell me to be discreet\nFor all intended purposes,\nThey tell me revenge is sweet\nAnd, from where they stand, I'm sure it is,\nBut I feel nothing for their game\nWhere beauty goes unrecognized,\nAll I feel is heat and flame\nAnd all I see are dark eyes.\n\nOh, the French girl, she's in paradise\nAnd a drunken man is at the wheel,\nHunger pays a heavy price\nTo the falling gods of speed and steel.\nOh, time is short and the days are sweet\nAnd passion rules the arrow that flies.\nA million faces at my feet,\nBut all I see are dark eyes."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nUntil the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his--his hands are clean\nAnd you're the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach for you in the night.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "I first heard this from Rick von Schmidt. He lives in Cambridge. Rick's a blues guitar player. I met him one day in the green pastures of Harvard University.\n\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\n\nCan I come home with you?\nBaby, can I come home with you?\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me come home with you.\n\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down.\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down."}
{"name": "If Not for You", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "If not for you,\nBabe, I couldn't find the door,\nCouldn't even see the floor,\nI'd be sad and blue,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nBabe, I'd lay awake all night,\nWait for the morning light\nTo shine in through,\nBut it would not be new,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nI'd be lost if not for you and you know it's true.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nOh, what would I do if not for you?\n\nIf not for you,\nWinter would have no spring,\nI couldn't hear the robin sing,\nI just wouldn't have a clue,\nAnyway, it wouldn't ring true,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you."}
{"name": "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Close your eyes, close the door.\nYou don't have to worry any more.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nShut the light, shut the shade.\nYou don't have to be afraid.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nWell, that mockingbird's gonna sail away - we're gonna forget it.\nThat big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon, but we're gonna let it. You won't regret it.\nKick your shoes off, do not fear.\nBring that bottle over here.\nI'll be your baby tonight."}
{"name": "I'll Keep It with Mine", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You will search, babe, at any cost,\nBut how long, babe, can you search for what is not lost?\nEverybody will help you, some people are very kind,\nBut, if I can save you any time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine.\n\nI can't help it if you might think I am odd\nIf I say I'm loving you not for what you are but what you're not.\nEverybody will help you discover what you set out to find,\nBut, if I can save you any time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine.\n\nThe train leaves at half past ten,\nBut it will be back in the same old spot again,\nThe conductor, he's still stuck on the line.\nAnd, if I can save you any time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThe battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "Masters of War", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Come, you masters of war, you that build the big guns,\nYou that build the death planes, you that build all the bombs,\nYou that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks,\nI just want you to know I can see through your masks.\n\nYou that never done nothing but build to destroy,\nYou play with my world like it's your little toy,\nYou put a gun in my hand and you hide from my eyes\nAnd you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly.\n\nLike Judas of old, you lie and deceive,\nA world war can be won you want me to believe,\nBut I see through your eyes and I see through your brain\nLike I see through the water that runs down my drain.\n\nYou fasten all the triggers for the others to fire,\nThen you set back and watch when the death-count gets higher\nAnd you hide in your mansion while the young people's blood\nFlows out of their bodies and is buried in the mud.\n\nYou've thrown the worst fear that can ever be hurled,\nFear to bring children into the world.\nFor threatening my baby, unborn and unnamed,\nYou ain't worth the blood that runs in your veins.\n\nHow much do I know, to talk out of turn?\nYou might say that I'm young, you might say I'm unlearned.\nBut there's one thing I know, though I'm younger than you:\nThat even Jesus would never forgive what you do.\n\nLet me ask you one question: Is your money that good?\nWill it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?\nI think you will find, when your death takes its toll,\nAll the money you made will never buy back your soul.\n\nAnd I hope that you die and your death will come soon,\nI'll follow your casket on the pale afternoon\nAnd I'll watch while you're lowered down to your deathbed\nAnd I'll stand over your grave till I'm sure that you're dead."}
{"name": "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll\nWith a cane that he twirled 'round his diamond ring finger\nAt a Baltimore hotel society gathering\nAnd the cops was called in and his weapon took from him\nAs they rode him in custody down to the station\nAnd booked William Zantzinger for first-degree murder.\nBut you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nWilliam Zantzinger, who at twenty-four years\nOwns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres,\nWith rich, wealthy parents who provide and protect him\nAnd high office relations in the politics of Maryland,\nReacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders\nAnd swear-words and sneering and his tongue, it was snarling\nAnd, in a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking.\nBut you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nHattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen,\nShe was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children,\nWho carried the dishes and took out the garbage\nAnd never sat once at the head of the table\nAnd didn't even talk to the people at the table,\nWho just cleaned up all the food from the table\nAnd emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,\nGot killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane\nThat sailed through the air and came down through the room,\nDoomed and determined to destroy all the gentle,\nAnd she never done nothing to William Zantzinger.\nAnd you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nIn the courtroom of honor the judge pounded his gavel\nTo show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level\nAnd that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded\nAnd that even the nobles get properly handled\nOnce that the cops have chased after and caught 'em\nAnd that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,\nStared at the person who killed for no reason,\nWho just happened to be feeling that way without warning,\nAnd he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,\nAnd handed out strongly for penalty and repentance\nWilliam Zantzinger with a six-month sentence.\nAh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nBury the rag deep in your face for now's the time for your tears."}
{"name": "Percy's Song", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Bad news, bad news came to me where I sleep -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nSaying one of your friends is in trouble deep -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nTell me the trouble, tell me once to my ear -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nJoliet prison and ninety-nine years -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nOh, what is the charge of how this came to be? -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nManslaughter in the highest of degrees -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nI sat down and wrote the best words I could write -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nExplaining to the judge I'd be there on Wednesday night -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nWithout a reply I left by the moon -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nAnd was in his chambers by the next afternoon -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\n\"Could you tell me the facts,\" I said without fear -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\n\"That a friend of mine would get ninety-nine years?\" -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nA crash on the highway flew the car to a field -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nThere was four persons killed and he was at the wheel -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nBut I know him as good as I'm knowing myself -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nAnd he wouldn't harm a life that belonged to someone else -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nThe judge spoke out of the side of his mouth -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nSaying, \"The witness who saw, he left little doubt\" -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nThat may be true, he's got a sentence to serve -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nBut ninety-nine years he just don't deserve -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nToo late, too late, for his case, it is sealed -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nThe sentence is passed and it cannot be repealed -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nBut he ain't no criminal and his crime, it is none -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nWhat happened to him could happen to anyone -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nAt that the judge jerked forward and his face, it did freeze -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nSaying, \"Could you kindly leave my office now, please?\" -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nThe room was funny and I stood up so slow -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nWith no other choice except but for to go -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nI walked down the hallway and I heard his door slam -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nI walked down the courthouse stairs and I did not understand -\nTurn, turn to the rain and the wind.\n\nI played my guitar through the night to the day -\nTurn, turn, turn again -\nAnd the only tune my guitar could play\nWas, \"Oh, the cruel rain and the wind...\""}
{"name": "Mixed-Up Confusion", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "I got mixed up confusion, man, it's a-killing me,\nWell, there's too many people and they're all too hard to please.\n\nWell, my hat's in my hand, babe, I'm walking down the line,\nI'm looking for a woman with a head mixed up like mine.\n\nWell, I'm too old to lose, babe, I'm too young to win,\nNow I feel like a stranger in a world I'm living in.\n\nBut I'm walking and wandering - my poor feet don't ever stop! -\nSeeing my reflection, I'm hung over, hung down, hung up!"}
{"name": "Tombstone Blues", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "The sweet, pretty things are in bed now of course,\nThe city fathers, they're trying to endorse\nThe reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse,\nBut the town has no need to be nervous.\n\nThe ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits\nTo Jezebel, the nun, she violently knits\nA bald wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits\nAt the head of the Chamber of Commerce.\n\nMama's in a factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe hysterical bride in the penny arcade,\nScreaming, she moans, \"I have just been made!\"\nThen sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the shade\nAnd says, \"My advice is to not let the boys in.\"\n\nNow, the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside,\nHe walks with a swagger and he says to the bride,\n\"Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride,\nYou will not die, it's not poison!\"\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nWell, John the Baptist, after torturing a thief,\nLooks up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief,\nSaying, \"Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief,\nIs there a hole for me to get sick in?\"\n\nThe Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly,\nSaying, \"Death to all those who would whimper and cry!\"\nAnd, dropping a barbell, he points to the sky\nSaying, \"The sun's not yellow, it's chicken!\"\n\nMama's in the factory. she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe king of the Philistines, his soldiers to save,\nPuts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves,\nPuts the pied-pipers in prison and fattens the slaves,\nThen sends 'em out to the jungle.\n\nGypsy Davy with a blowtorch, he burns out their camps,\nWith his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps\nWith a fantastic collection of stamps\nTo win friends and influence his uncle.\n\nMama's in a factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in trouble with the tombstone blues.\n\nThe geometry of innocent flesh on the bone\nCauses Galileo's math book to get thrown\nAt Delilah, who's sitting worthlessly alone,\nBut the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.\n\nI wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill,\nI would set him in chains at the top of the hill,\nThen send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille.\nHe could die happily ever after.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nWhere Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll,\nTuba players now rehearse around the flagpole\nAnd the National Bank at a profit sells road-maps for the soul\nTo the old folks' home and the college.\n\nI wish I could write you a melody so plain\nThat could hold you, dear lady, from going insane,\nThat could ease you and cool you and cease the pain\nOf your useless and pointless knowledge.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the alley, he's looking for food,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues."}
{"name": "Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Prayed in the ghetto with my face in the cement,\nHeard the last moan of a boxer, seen the massacre of the innocent,\nFelt around for the light switch, felt around for her face,\nBeen treated like a farm animal on a wild-goose chase.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nTry to be pure at heart, they arrest you for robbery,\nMistake your shyness for aloofness, your silence for snobbery.\nGot the message this morning, the one that was sent to me\n'Bout the madness of becoming what one was never meant to be.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nDon't know what I could say about Claudette wouldn't come back to haunt me,\nFinally had to give her up 'bout the time she begin to want me,\nBut I know God has mercy on them who're slandered and humiliated,\nI'd a-done anything for that woman if she'd only made me feel obligated.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nPut your hand on my head, baby, do I have a temperature?\nI see people who're supposed to know better standing around like furniture,\nThere's a wall between you--what you want and you got to leap it:\nTonight you got the power to take it, tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nCities on fire, phones outta order,\nThey're killing nuns and soldiers, there's fighting on the border.\nWhat can I say about Claudette? Ain't seen her since January.\nShe could be respectably married or running a whorehouse in Buenos Aires.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar."}
{"name": "Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You say you love me and you're thinking of me, but you know you could be wrong,\nYou say you told me that you wanna hold me, but you know you're not that strong.\nI just can't do what I've done before,\nI just can't beg you anymore,\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nYou say you're shaking and you're always a-breaking, but you know how hard you try,\nYou say you're assuming that you're kind of a-hurting, but you know sometimes you lie.\nSometimes it gets so hard to care -\nIt can't be this way everywhere -\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell and who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine.\n\nThe judge, he's holding a grudge and he's about to call on you,\nBut he's badly-built and he walks on stilts - watch out he don't fall on you.\n\nYou say you're sorry for telling me stories you know I believe are true,\nSay you got some other--other kind of lover and, yes, I believe you do.\nYou say my kisses aren't like his -\nYeah, and--well, I'm not gonna tell you why that is,\nI'm gonna let you pass,\nYes, and I'll go last,\nWell, the time will tell who has fell, who's been left behind,\nWhen you go your way and I go mine."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud.\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nA complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he took from you everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo have--be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, princess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Jet Pilot", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, she's got jet-pilot eyes from her hips on down,\nAll the bombardiers're trying to force her outta town.\nShe's five-feet-nine and she carries a monkey wrench,\nShe weighs more by the foot than she does by the inch.\nShe got all the downtown boys all at her command,\nBut you got to watch her closely 'cause she ain't no woman, she's a man."}
{"name": "Lay Down Your Weary Tune", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Lay down your weary tune, lay down, lay down the song you strum\nAnd rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings no voice can hope to hum.\n\nStruck by the sounds before the sun, I knew the night had gone,\nThe morning breeze like a bugle blew against the drums of dawn.\nLay down your weary tune, lay down, lay down the song you strum\nAnd rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings no voice can hope to hum.\n\nThe ocean wild like an organ played, the seaweeds wove its strands,\nThe crashing waves like cymbals clashed against the rocks and sands.\nLay down your weary tune, lay down, lay down the song you strum\nAnd rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings no voice can hope to hum.\n\nI stood unwound beneath the skies and clouds unbound by laws,\nThe crying rain like a trumpet sang and asked for no applause.\nLay down your weary tune, lay down, lay down the song you strum\nAnd rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings no voice can hope to hum.\n\nThe last of leaves fell from the trees and clung to a new love's breast,\nThe branches bare like a banjo moaned to the winds that listened the best.\n\nI gazed down in the river's mirror and watched its winding strum,\nThe water smooth ran like a hymn and like a harp did hum.\nLay down your weary tune, lay down, lay down the song you strum\nAnd rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings no voice can hope to hum."}
{"name": "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Johnny's in the basement\nMixing up the medicine,\nI'm on the pavement\nThinking about the government,\nThe man in the trench-coat,\nBadge out, laid off,\nSays he's got a bad cough,\nWants to get it paid off.\nLook out, kid,\nIt's something you did\nGod knows when,\nBut you're doing it again,\nYou better duck down the alleyway,\nLooking for a new friend.\nThe man in the coon-skin cap\nIn the pigpen\nWants eleven dollar bills,\nYou only got ten.\n\nMaggie comes fleet-foot,\nFace full of black soot,\nTalking that the heat put\nPlants in the bed, but\nThe phone's tapped anyway,\nMaggie says that many say\nThey must bust in early May,\nOrders from the D.A.\nLook out, kid,\nDon't matter what you did,\nDon't walk on your tip-toes,\nDon't try No Doz,\nBetter stay away from those\nThat carry 'round a fire-hose,\nKeep a clean nose,\nWatch the plain-clothes,\nYou don't need a weatherman\nTo know which way the wind blows.\n\nAh, get sick, get well,\nHang around the ink-well,\nRing bell, hard to tell\nIf anything is gonna sell,\nTry hard, get barred,\nGet back, write Braille,\nGet jailed, jump bail,\nJoin the army if you fail.\nLook out, kid,\nYou're gonna get hit\nBy losers, cheaters,\nSix-time users\nHanging 'round the theaters,\nGirl by the whirlpool's\nLooking for a new fool,\nDon't follow leaders,\nWatch the parking meters.\n\nOh, get born, keep warm,\nShort pants, romance, learn to dance,\nGet dressed, get blessed,\nTry to be a success,\nPlease her, please him, buy gifts,\nDon't steal, don't lift,\nTwenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.\nLook out, kid,\nThey keep it all hid,\nBetter jump down a manhole,\nLight yourself a candle,\nDon't wear sandals\nAnd try to avoid the scandals.\nDon't wanna be a bum,\nYou better chew gum,\nThe pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles."}
{"name": "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "I can't understand,\nShe let go of my hand\nAnd left me here facing the wall.\nWell, I'd sure like to know\nWhy she did go,\nBut I can't get close to her at all.\nThough we kissed through the wild, blazing nighttime,\nShe said she would never forget,\nBut morning is clear\nAnd it's like I ain't here,\nShe pretends like we never have met.\n\nIt's all new to me\nLike some mystery,\nIt could even be like a myth,\nBut it's hard to think on\nThat she's the same one\nThat last night I was with.\nYes, I know, from darkness dreams are deserted -\nAm I still dreaming yet?\nI wish she'd unlock\nHer voice once and talk\n'Stead of acting like we never have met.\n\nIf I--I didn't have to guess,\nI'd gladly confess\nTo anything I might have tried.\nIf I was with her too long\nOr have done something wrong,\nI wish she'd tell me what it is, I'll run and hide.\nOh, her skirt, it swayed as the guitar played,\nHer mouth was watery and wet,\nBut something has changed,\nFor she ain't the same,\nShe just acts like we never have met.\n\nI'm leaving today,\nI'll be on my way,\nOf this I can't say very much,\nYes, but, if you want me to,\nI can be just like you\nAnd pretend that we never have touched,\nAnd, if anybody asks me,\n\"Is it easy to forget?\"\nI'll say, \"It's easily done,\nJust pick anyone\nAnd pretend that you never have met.\""}
{"name": "Visions of Johanna", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?\nWe sit here stranded though we all do our best to deny it\nAnd Louise holds a handful of rain tempting you to defy it.\nLights flicker from the opposite loft,\nIn this room the heat-pipes just cough,\nThe country music station plays soft,\nBut there's nothing, really nothing to turn off,\nJust Louise and her lover so entwined\nAnd these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.\n\nIn the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key-chain\nAnd the all-night girls, they whisper of escapades out on the D train,\nWe can hear the night watchman click his flashlight, ask himself just who that--if it's them or him that's really insane.\nBut Louise, she's alright, she's just near,\nShe's delicate, she seems like the mirror,\nBut she just makes it all too concise and too clear\nThat Johanna's not here.\nThe ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face\nWhere these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.\n\nLittle boy lost, he takes himself so seriously,\nHe brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously,\nAnd, when bringing her name up, he speaks of a farewell kiss to me.\nHe's sure got a lot of gall\nTo be so useless and all,\nMuttering small talk at the wall\nWhile I'm in the hall.\nOh, how can I explain? It's so hard to get on\nAnd these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn.\n\nInside the museums infinity goes up on trial,\nVoices echo, \"This is what salvation must be like after a while\",\nBut even Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles.\nSee the primitive wallflower freeze\nWhen the jelly-faced women all sneeze,\nHear the one with the mustache say, \"Jeez,\nI can't find my knees.\"\nJewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule,\nBut these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.\n\nThe peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him,\nSaying, \"Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him.\"\nBut, like Louise always says, \"You can't look at much, can you, man?\" as she herself prepares for him.\nAnd Madonna, she still has not showed,\nWe see this empty cage now corrode\nWhere her cape of the stage once had flowed,\nThe fiddler, he now steps to the road,\nHe writes \"Everything's been returned which was owed\"\nOn the back of the fish truck that loads\nWhile my conscience explodes.\nThe harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain\nAnd these visions of Johanna are now all that remain."}
{"name": "Every Grain of Sand", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need,\nWhen the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed,\nThere's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere,\nToiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.\nDon't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,\nLike Cain I now behold this chain of events that I must break.\nIn the fury of the moment I can see the master's hand\nIn every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.\n\nOh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,\nLike criminals they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer\nAnd the sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way,\nTo ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.\nI gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame\nAnd, every time I pass that way, I always hear my name.\nThen, onward in my journey, I come to understand\nThat every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.\n\nI have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night,\nIn the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light,\nIn the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,\nIn the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.\nI hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea,\nSometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.\nI am hanging in the balance of the reality of man\nLike every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand."}
{"name": "Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Everybody's building the big ships and boats,\nSome are building monuments, others are jotting down notes,\nEverybody's in despair, every girl and boy.\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody'll jump for joy.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nNow, I likes to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,\nBut darting fumes and making haste, it ain't my cup of meat.\nEverybody's just standing 'round 'neath the trees feeding pigeons on a limb,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, them pigeons'll go to him.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nNow, lamp-gates and [incomprehensible], I can recite 'em all,\nJust tell me where it hurts and I'll tell you who to call.\nNobody can get any sleep, there's someone on everybody's toes,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna doze.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!"}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Dear Landlord", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Dear Landlord, please don't put a price on my soul.\nMy burden is heavy, my dreams are beyond control.\nWhen that steamboat whistle blows, I'm gonna give you all I got to give\nAnd I do hope you receive it well, depending on the way you feel that you live.\n\nDear Landlord, please heed these words that I speak.\nI know you've suffered much, but in this you are not so unique.\nAll of us at times, we might work too hard to have it too fast and too much.\nAnd anyone can fill his life up with things he can see, but he just cannot touch.\n\nDear Landlord, please don't dismiss my case.\nI'm not about to argue, I'm not about to move to no other place.\nNow, each of us has his own special gift and you know this was meant to be true.\nAnd, if you don't underestimate me, I won't underestimate you."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho's never weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo lightly from the ledge, babe,\nGo lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI will only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back in the night,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho'll pick you up each time you fall,\nTo gather flowers constantly,\nAnd to come each time you call,\nA lover for your life and nothing more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "You Angel You", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You angel, you, you're as f--got me under your wing,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk - I feel I could almost sing.\n\nYou angel, you, you're as fine as anything's fine,\nI just walk and watch you talk with your memory on my mind.\n\nAnd, though I can't sleep at night for trying,\nYes, I never did feel this way before,\nNever did get up and walk the floor,\nIf this is love, then give me more and more and more and more and more.\n\nYou angel, you, you're as fine as can be,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk is the way it oughtta be.\n\nAnd, though I can't sleep at night for trying,\nNever did feel this way before,\nNever did get up and walk the floor,\nIf this is love, then give me more and more and more and more.\n\nYou angel, you, you got me under your wing,\nThe way you walk and the way you talk, I swear, it would make me sing."}
{"name": "Million Dollar Bash", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, that big dumb blonde with her wheel gorged,\nTurtle, that friend of hers with his checks all forged\nAnd his cheeks in a chunk, with his cheese in the cash,\nThey're all gonna be there at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nEverybody from right now to over there and back,\nThe louder they come, the bigger they crack.\nCome, now, sweet cream, don't forget to flash,\nWe're all gonna meet at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I took my counselor out to the barn,\nSilly Nelly was there, she told him a yarn,\nAnd along came Jones, emptied the trash,\nEverybody went down to that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I'm hitting it too hard, my stones won't take,\nI get up in the morning, but it's too early to wake,\nFirst it's hello, goodbye, then push, and then crash,\nBut we're all gonna make it at that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash.\n\nWell, I looked at my watch, I looked at my wrist,\nI punched myself in the face with my fist,\nI took my potatoes down to be mashed,\nAnd I made it on over to that million dollar bash.\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nOoh, baby, ooh-ee,\nIt's that million dollar bash."}
{"name": "To Ramona", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Ramona, come closer, shut softly your watery eyes.\nThe pangs of your sadness will pass as your senses will rise\nFor the flowers of the city, though breath-like, get death-like sometimes\nAnd there's no use in trying to deal with the dying, though I cannot explain that in lines.\n\nYour cracked country lips I still wish to kiss as to be by the strength of your skin.\nYour magnetic movement still captures the minutes I'm in.\nBut it grieves my heart, love, to see you trying to be a part of a world that just don't exist.\nIt's all just a dream, babe, a vacuum, a scheme, babe, that sucks you into feeling like this.\n\nI can see that your head has been twisted and fed with worthless foam from the mouth.\nI can tell you are torn between staying and returning back to the South.\nYou've been fooled into thinking that the finishing end is at hand.\nYet there's no one to beat you, no one to defeat you 'cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.\n\nI've heard you say many times that you're better than no one and no one is better than you.\nIf you really believe that, you know you have nothing to win and nothing to lose.\nFrom fixtures and forces and friends your sorrow does stem,\nThat hype you and type you and making you feel that you gotta be just like them.\n\nI'd forever talk to you, but soon my words, they would turn into a meaningless ring\nFor deep in my heart I know there's no help I can bring.\nEverything passes, everything changes. Just do what you think you should do.\nAnd someday maybe - who knows, baby? - I'll come and be crying to you."}
{"name": "You're a Big Girl Now", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Our conversation was short and sweet,\nIt nearly swept me off of my feet -\nHmm, and I'm back in the rain,\nHmm, and you are on dry land,\nYou made it there somehow,\nYou're a big girl now.\n\nBird on the horizon sitting on a fence,\nHe's singing his song for me at his own expense -\nAnd I'm just like that bird,\nOh, singing just for you,\nHmm, I hope that you can hear,\nHear me singing through these tears.\n\nLove is so simple, to quote a phrase,\nYou've known it all the time, I'm learning it these days -\nOh, I know where I can find you,\nOh, in somebody's room,\nHmm, it's a price I have to pay,\nYou're a big girl all the way.\n\nTime is a jet plane, it moves too fast,\nOh, but what a shame! that all we've shared can't last.\nI can change, I swear,\nHmm, see what you can do,\nHmm, I can make it through,\nYou can make it too.\n\nA change in the weather can be extreme,\nBut it ain't like changing horses in midstream.\nI'm going out of my mind,\nHmm, with a pain that stops and starts,\nOoh-ah, like a corkscrew to my heart\nEver since we've been apart."}
{"name": "Abandoned Love", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "My heart is telling me I love you still.\n\nI can see the turning of the key,\nI've been deceived by the clown inside of me,\nI thought that he was righteous, but he's vain,\nOh, something's telling me I wear the ball and chain.\n\nMy patron saint is a-fighting with a ghost,\nHe's always off somewhere when I need him most,\nThe Spanish moon is rising on the hill,\nBut my heart is telling me I love you still.\n\nI come back to the town from the flaming moon\nAnd I see you in the street, I begin to swoon,\nI love to see you dress before the mirror -\nWon't you let me in your room one time before I finally disappear?\n\nEverybody's wearing a disguise\nTo hide what they've got left behind their eyes,\nBut me, I can't cover what I am,\nWherever the children go, I'll follow them.\n\nI march in the parade of liberty,\nBut, as long as I love you, I'm not free.\nHow long must I suffer such abuse?\nWon't you let me see your smile before I turn you loose?\n\nI've given up the game, I've got to leave,\nThe pot of gold is only make-believe,\nThe treasure can't be found by men who search,\nWhose gods are dead and whose queens are in the church.\n\nWe sat in an empty theater and we kissed,\nI asked you, please, to cross me off your list,\nMy head tells me it's time to make a change,\nBut my heart is telling me I love you, but you're strange.\n\nOh, one more time at midnight near the wall,\nTake off your heavy make-up and your shawl.\nWon't you descend from the throne from where you sit?\nLet me feel your love one more time before I abandon it."}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said our lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd I was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on my shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, I've paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when we first met, soon to be divorced,\nI helped her out of a jam, I guess, but I used a little too much force.\nWe drove that car as far as we could, abandoned it out west,\nSplit up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at me as I was a-walking away,\nI heard her say over my shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nI had a job in the Great North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut I never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nSo I drifted down to New Orleans where I lucky was to be employed,\nWorking for a while on a fishing boat right outside of Delacroix,\nBut all the while I was alone, the past was close behind,\nI seen a lot of women but she never escaped my mind and I just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"Don't I know your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"I thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the fifteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nThen he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it finally--the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, a-heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last,\nBut whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,\nYonder stands your orphan with his gun,\nCrying like a fire in the sun.\nLook out, the saints are coming through\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nThe highway is for gamblers, better use your sense,\nTake what you have gathered from coincidence.\nThe empty-handed painter from your streets\nIs drawing crazy patterns on your sheets,\nThe sky too is folding under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nAll your seasick sailors, they're all rowing home,\nYour own empty-handed army is all going home,\nYour lover, who just walked out your door,\nHas taken all his blankets from the floor,\nThe carpet too is moving under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nLeave your stepping-stones behind, there's something that calls for you,\nForget the dead you've left, they will not follow you,\nThe vagabond who's rapping at your door\nIs standing in the clothes that you once wore.\nStrike another match, go start anew,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue."}
{"name": "Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window?", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "He sits in your room, his tomb, with a fist full of tacks,\nPreoccupied with his vengeance,\nCursing the dead that can't answer him back.\nYou know that he has no intentions\nOf looking your way, unless it's to say\nThat he needs you to test his inventions.\nBabe, come crawl out your window,\nUse your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.\nHow can you say he will haunt you?\nYou can go back to him any time you want to.\n\nHe looks so truthful - is this how he feels? -\nTrying to peel the moon and expose it,\nWith his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel,\nIf he needs a third eye, he just grows it,\nHe just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk,\nOr pick it up after he throws it.\nBabe, please crawl out your window,\nOh, use your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.\nHow can you say he will haunt you?\nYou can go back to him any time you want to.\n\nHe look so righteous while your face is so changed\nAs you sit on the box you keep him in\nWhile his genocide fools and his friends rearrange\nTheir religion of the little ten women\nThat backs up their views, but your face is so bruised.\nCome on out, the dark is just beginning.\nBabe, please come crawl out your window,\nOh, use your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.\nHow can you say he will haunt you?\nWell, you can go back to him any time that you want to.\n\nYou got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend\nIf you won't come out your window.\nYes, come out your window!\nOh, my-"}
{"name": "Positively 4th Street", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend,\nWhen I was down, you just stood there grinning.\nYou got a lotta nerve to say you got a helping hand to lend,\nYou just want to be on the side that's winning.\nYou say I let you down, you know it's not like that.\nIf you're so hurt, why then don't you show it?\n\nYou say you lost your faith, but that's not where it's at,\nYou had no faith to lose and you know it.\nI know the reason that you talk behind my back,\nI used to be among the crowd you're in with.\nDo you take me for such a fool to think I'd make contact\nWith the one who tries to hide what he don't know to begin with?\nYou see me on the street, you always act surprised,\nYou say, \"How are you?\", \"Good luck\", but you don't mean it\nWhen you know as well as me you'd rather see me paralyzed -\nWhy don't you just come out once and scream it?\nNo, I do not feel that good when I see the heartbreaks you embrace,\nIf I was a master thief perhaps I'd rob them,\nAnd, now, I know you're dissatisfied with your position and your place.\nDon't you understand it's not my problem?\nI wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes\nAnd just for that one moment I could be you.\nYes, I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes,\nYou'd know what a drag it is to see you."}
{"name": "Isis", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Here's a song about marriage. This is called \"Isis\". This is for a man if he's still here.\n\nI married Isis on the fifth day of May,\nBut I could not hold on to her very long,\nSo I cut off my hair and I rode straight away\nFor the wild, unknown country where I could not go wrong.\n\nI came to a high place of darkness and light,\nThe dividing line ran through the center of town,\nI hitched up my pony to a post on the right,\nWent into a laundry to wash my clothes down.\n\nA man in the corner approached me for a match,\nI knew right away he was not ordinary,\nHe said, \"Are you looking for something easy to catch?\"\nI said, \"I got no money, man.\" He said, \"That ain't necessary.\"\n\nWe set out that night for the cold in the north,\nI gave him my blanket and he gave me his word,\nI said, \"Where we going?\" He said we'd be back by the fourth.\nI said, \"That's the best news that I've ever heard.\"\n\nI was thinking 'bout turquoise, I was thinking 'bout gold,\nThinking about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace,\nAs we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold,\nI was thinking 'bout Isis, how she thought I was so reckless.\n\nShe told me, though, that one day we would meet up again,\nThings would be different the next time we wed\nIf only could hang on and just be her friend -\nI still can't remember all the best things she said.\n\nWe came to the pyramids all embedded in ice,\nHe said, \"There's a body I'm a-trying to find.\nIf I carry it out, it'll bring a good price.\"\n'Twas then that I knew what he had on his mind.\n\nWell, the wind, it was howling and the snow was outrageous,\nWe chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn.\nWhen he died, I was hoping that it wasn't contagious,\nBut I made up my mind that I had to get on.\n\nI broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty,\nThere was no jewels, no nothing! I felt I'd been had\nWhen I saw that my partner, he was just being friendly,\nWhen I picked up his offer, Lord, musta been mad.\n\nI picked up his body and I dragged him inside,\nThrew him down in the hole, I put back the cover.\nI said a quick prayer just to feel satisfied,\nThen I went back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.\n\nShe was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise,\nBlinded by sleep and in need of a bed.\nI came in from the east with the sun in my eyes,\nI cursed her one time, then I rode on ahead.\n\nShe said, \"Where you been?\" I said, \"No place special.\"\nShe said, \"You look different.\" I said, \"Well, I guess.\"\nShe said, \"You been gone.\" I said, \"That's only natural.\"\nShe said, \"You gonna stay?\" I said, \"If you want me to, yes!\"\n\nIsis, oh, Isis, you're a mystical child,\nWhat drives me to you is what drives me insane,\nI still can remember the way that you smiled\nOn the fifth day of May in the drizzling rain."}
{"name": "Caribbean Wind", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost,\nFrom the city of seven hills, near the place of the cross.\nI was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.\nTold about Jesus, told about the rain,\nShe told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain\nBy the man who invented iron and disappeared so mysteriously.\nWas she a child or an angel? Did we go too far?\nWere we slandered, babe? Did we follow a star\nThrough a hole in the wall to where the long arm of the law cannot reach?\nCould I been used and played as a pawn?\nIt certainly was possible as the gay night wore on\nWhere men bathed in perfume and practiced the hopes of free speech.\nAnd them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico,\nFanning the flames in the furnace of desire,\nAnd them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,\nBringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.\n\nSea breeze blowing, there's a hell-hound loose,\nRedeemed men who have escaped from the noose\nPreaching faith and salvation, waiting on the night to arrive.\nHe was well connected, but her heart was a snare\nAnd she had left him to die in there.\nHe was going down slow, just barely staying alive.\nThe cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head,\nCeiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed,\nStreet band playing \"Nearer My God to Thee\".\nWe met at the station where the mission bells ring,\nShe said, \"I know what you're thinking, but there ain't a thing\nYou can do about it, so let us just agree to agree.\"\nAnd them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico,\nFanning the flames on the furnace of desire,\nThem distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,\nBringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.\n\nAtlantic City, by the cold, grey sea,\nHear a voice crying \"Daddy!\" I always think it's for me,\nBut it's only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.\nEvery new messenger bringing evil report\n'Bout armies on the march and time that is short\nAnd famines and earthquakes and train-wrecks and tearing down of the wall.\nDid you ever have a dream that you couldn't explain?\nEver meet your accusers face-to-face in the rain?\nShe had chrome-brown eyes that I won't forget as long as she's gone.\nI see the screws break loose, see the devil pounding on tin,\nI see a house in the country being a-torn apart from within,\nI can hear my ancestors calling from the land far beyond.\nAnd them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico,\nFanning the flames in the furnace of desire,\nAnd them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,\nBringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire."}
{"name": "Up to Me", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Everything went from bad to worse, money never changed a thing,\nDeath kept following, tracking us down, at least I heard your bluebird sing.\nNow somebody's got to show their hand, time is an enemy.\nI know you're long gone, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nIf I'd'a thought about it, I never woulda done it, I guess I woulda let it slide,\nIf I'd'a paid attention to what others were thinking, the heart inside me woulda died,\nBut I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity.\nSomeone had to reach for the rising star, I guess it was up to me.\n\nNow, the Union Central is pulling out, the orchids are in bloom,\nI've only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale perfume.\nIn fourteen months I've only smiled once and I didn't do it consciously.\nSomebody's got to find your trail, I guess it's gonna be up to me.\n\nIt was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch,\nI'd just about convinced myself nothing had changed that much.\nThe old Rounder in the iron mask, he slipped me the master key.\nSomebody had to unlock your heart, he said it was up to me.\n\nNow, I watched you slowly disappear down into the officers' club,\nI woulda followed you in the door, but I didn't have a ticket stub,\nSo I waited all night till the break of day, hoping one of us could get free.\nOh, when the dawn came over the river bridge, I knew it was up to me.\n\nThe only decent thing I did when I worked as a postal clerk\nWas to haul your picture down off the wall near the cage where I used to work.\nWas I a fool or not to protect your real identity?\nYou looked a little burned out, my friend, I thought it might be up to me.\n\nI met somebody face-to-face, I had to remove my hat,\nShe's everything I need and love, but I can't be swayed by that.\nIt frightens me, the awful truth of how sweet life can be,\nBut she ain't gonna make a move, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nNow, we heard the Sermon on the Mount and I knew it was too complex,\nIt didn't amount to anything more than what the broken glass reflects.\nWhen you bite off more than you can chew, you got to pay the penalty.\nSomebody's got to tell the tale, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nDupree came in pimping tonight to the Thunderbird Cafe,\nCrystal wanted to talk to him, I had to look the other way.\nNow I just can't rest without you, love, I need your company.\nYou ain't gonna cross the line, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nThere's a note left in the bottle, you can give it to Estelle.\nShe's the one you been wondering about, but there's a-really nothing much to tell.\nWe both heard voices for a while, now the rest is a-history.\nSomebody's got to cry some tears, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nSo, go on, boys, play your hands, life is a pantomime,\nThe ringleaders from the county seat say you don't have all that much time,\nAnd the girl with me behind the shades, she ain't my property.\nOne of us has got to hit the road, I guess it must be up to me.\n\nIf we never meet again, baby, remember me,\nHow my lone guitar played sweet for you that old-time melody,\nAnd the harmonica around my neck, I blew it for you free.\nNo one else could play that tune, you knew it was up to me."}
{"name": "Baby, I'm in the Mood for You", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna milk my milk-cow low,\nSometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna leave my lonesome home,\nYes, sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna hit that highway road,\nBut then again-and then again, I said, oh-whoa-whoa-oh, babe, I'm in the mood for you.\n\nSometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna turn my back to the wall,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna live in my pony-stall,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood, I ain't gonna do nothing at all,\nBut then again, I said, oh-I said, oh-I said, oh-oh, babe, I'm in the mood for you.\n\nWoo!\n\nSometimes I'm in the mood I wanna change my house around,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna change things in the town,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna change the whole world around,\nBut then again-I think again-and then the-whoa-I said, oh-I said, oh, babe, I'm in the mood for you.\n\nSometimes I'm in the mood, I'm gonna give away all my sins,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood, I wanna walk the road again,\nAnd sometimes I'm in the mood that I'm bound to lose again,\nBut then again, I said-again, I said, whoa-whoa, babe, sometimes I'm in the mood for you.\n\nWoo!\n\nI said, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, I said, oh, babe, I'm in the mood for you,\nI said, oh, babe, I'm in the mood for you."}
{"name": "I Wanna Be Your Lover", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, the rain-man comes with his magic wand,\nBut the judge says, \"Mona can't have no bond.\"\nThe walls collide, Mona cries.\nRain-man leaves in the wolf-man's disguise. Oh!\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I wanna be your man,\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be hers, I wanna be yours!\n\nNow the undertaker in his midnight suit\nSays to the madman, \"Ain't you cute!\"\nThe madman, he jumps up on the shelf,\nHe says, \"You ain't so bad yourself!\" Oh, yeah!\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I wanna be your man,\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be hers, I wanna be yours!\n\nWell, Jumping Judy can't go no higher,\nShe had bullets in her eyes and they fire.\nRasputin, he's so dignified,\nTouched the back of her head and he died. Oh!\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I wanna be your man,\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be hers, I wanna be yours!\nAlright!\n\nWell, Phaedra with her looking glass,\nWhen she lays upon the grass,\nShe gets all messed up, she faints,\nThat's 'cause she's so obvious and you ain't. Oh, oh, well!\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I wanna be your man,\nI wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be hers, I wanna be yours!\nI wanna be yours!\nAlright, now!\nI'll hold it down for you."}
{"name": "I Want You", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "The guilty undertaker sighs, the lonesome organ-grinder cries,\nThe silver saxophones say I should refuse you.\nThe cracked bells and washed-out horns blow into my face with scorn,\nBut it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nThe drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep\nAnd the saviors, who are fast asleep, they wait for you.\nAnd I wait for them to interrupt me drinking from my broken cup\nAnd ask me to open up the gate for you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, all my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nBut all their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nWell, I return to the Queen of Spades and talk with my chambermaid,\nShe knows that she's not afraid to look at her.\nShe is good to me and there's nothing she doesn't see,\nShe knows where I'd like to be, but it doesn't matter.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nNow, your dancing child with his Chinese suit, he spoke to me, I took his flute.\nNo, I wasn't very cute to him, was I?\nBut I did it because he lied, because he took you for a ride,\nAnd because time was on his side and because I\nWant you,\nI want you,\nYes, I want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you."}
{"name": "Heart of Mine", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Heart of mine, be still,\nYou can play with fire, but you'll get the bill.\nDon't let her know,\nDon't let her know that you love her,\nDon't be a fool, don't be blind,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, go back home,\nYou got no reason to wander, no reason to roam.\nDon't let her see,\nDon't let her see where you're going,\nDon't put yourself over the line,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, go back where you been,\nBe only trouble for you if-a you let her in.\nDon't let her know,\nDon't let her know that you love her,\nDon't be a fool, don't be blind,\nHeart of mine.\n\nHeart of mine, so malicious and so full of guile,\nGive you an inch and you'll take the mile.\nDon't let yourself fall,\nDon't let yourself stumble,\nIf you can't do the time, don't do the crime,\nHeart of mine,\nIf you can't do the time, don't do the crime,\nHeart of mine,\nIf you can't do the time, don't do the crime,\nHeart of mine."}
{"name": "On a Night Like This", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "On a night like this I'm so glad you came around,\nHold on to me so tight and heat up some coffee grounds.\nWe got much to talk about and much to reminisce,\nIt sure is right on a night like this.\n\nOn a night like this I'm so glad you're here to stay,\nHold on to me, pretty miss, and say you'll never go away to stray.\nRun your fingers down my spine and bring me a touch of bliss,\nIt sure feels right on a night like this.\n\nOn a night like this I can't get any sleep,\nThe air is so cold outside and the snow's so deep.\nBuild a fire, throw on logs, and listen to it hiss,\nAnd let it burn, burn, burn, burn on a night like this.\n\nPut your body next to mine and keep me company,\nThere is plenty of room for all, so please don't elbow me.\nLet the four winds blow around this old cabin door -\nIf I'm not too far off, I think we did this once before.\nThere's more frost on the window glass with each new, tender kiss,\nBut it sure feels right on a night like this."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain.\nEverybody knows that baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again.\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she finally sees that she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying of thirst so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just can't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nAnd, when we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.\nAh, you fake just like a woman - yes, you do!\nYou make love just like a woman - yes, you do!\nThen you ache just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Romance in Durango", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun,\nDust on my face and my cape,\nMe and Magdalena on the run,\nI think this time we should escape.\n\nSold my guitar to the baker's son\nFor a few crumbs and a place to hide,\nBut I can get another one\nAnd I'll play for Magdalena as we ride.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nPast the Aztec ruins and the ghosts of our people,\nHoofbeats like castanets on stone,\nAt night I dream of bells in the village steeple,\nThen I see the bloody face of Ramon.\n\nWas it me that shot him down in the cantina?\nWas it my hand that held the gun?\nCome, let us fly, my Magdalena,\nThe dogs are barking and what's done is done.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nAt the corrida we'll sit in the shade\nAnd watch the young torero stand alone,\nDrink tequila where our grandfathers stayed\nWhen they rode with Villa into Torreon.\n\nThe way, it is long, but the end is near,\nAlready the fiesta has begun,\nWell, the streets--the face of God will soon appear\nWith the serpent eyes of obsidian.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nWas that the thunder that I heard?\nMy head is vibrating, I feel a sharp pain.\nCome sit by me, don't say a word.\nOh, can it be that I am slain?\n\nQuick, Magdalena, take my gun,\nLook up in the hills, that flash of light.\nAim well, my little one,\nWe may not make it through the night."}
{"name": "Se\u00f1or (Tales of Yankee Power)", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Senor, Senor, can you tell me where we're heading,\nLincoln County Road or Armageddon?\nSeem like I been down this way before,\nIs there any truth in that, Senor?\n\nSenor, Senor, do you know where she's hiding?\nHow long are we gonna be riding?\nHow long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?\nWill there be any comfort there, Senor?\n\nThere's a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deck,\nThere's an Iron Cross still hanging down from around her neck,\nThere's a marching band still playing in that vacant lot\nWhere she held me in her arms one time and said, \"Forget me not.\"\n\nSenor, Senor, I can see that painted wagon,\nSmell the tail of the dragon,\nCan't stand the suspense anymore--\nCan you tell me who to contact here, Senor?\n\nWell, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled\nWas that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field,\nA gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring,\nShe said, \"Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing.\"\n\nSenor, Senor, you know, their hearts're as hard as leather,\nWell, give me a minute, let me get it together,\nJust gotta pick myself up off the floor.\nI'm ready when you are, Senor.\n\nSenor, Senor, let's overturn these tables,\nDisconnect these cables--\nThis place don't make sense to me no more!\nCan you tell me what we're waiting for, Senor?"}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "You may be an ambassador to England or France,\nYou may like to gamble, you might like to dance,\nYou may be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nYou may be a socialite with a long string of pearls,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a rock-and-roll addict prancing on the stage,\nMight have drugs at your command, women in a cage,\nYou may be a businessman or some high-degree thief,\nThey may call you \"doctor\" or they may call you \"chief\",\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a state trooper, you might be a Young Turk,\nMay be the head of some big TV network,\nYou may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a construction worker working on a home,\nMight be living in a mansion, you might live in a dome,\nYou may own guns and you may even own tanks,\nYou may be somebody's landlord, you may even own banks,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it a-may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a preacher preaching spiritual pride,\nMay be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,\nMay be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,\nYou may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMight like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,\nMight like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,\nMight like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,\nMay be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nNow, you may call me Terry or you may call me Timmy,\nYou may call me Bobby or you may call me Zimmy,\nYou may call me R.J., you may call me Ray,\nYou may call me anything, don't matter what you say,\nYou're still gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil and it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "I Believe in You", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "They ask me how I feel\nAnd if my love is real\nAnd how I know I'll make it through\nAnd they--they look at me and frown,\nThey'd like to drive me from this town,\nThey don't want me around 'cause I believe in you.\n\nThey--they show me to the door,\nThey say don't come back no more\n'Cause I don't be like they'd like me to\nAnd I--I walk out on my own,\nA thousand miles from home,\nBut I don't feel alone 'cause I believe in you.\n\nI believe in you even through the tears and the laughter,\nI believe in you even though we be apart,\nI believe in you even on the morning after,\nOh, when the dawn is nearing,\nOh, when the night is disappearing,\nOh, this feeling's still here in my heart.\nDon't let me drift too far,\nKeep me where you are,\nWhere I will always be renewed,\nAnd that which you've given me today\nIs worth more than I could pay\nAnd, no matter what they say, I believe in you.\n\nI believe in you when winter turns--turns to summer,\nI believe in you when white turn to black,\nI believe in you even though I be outnumbered,\nOh, though the earth may shake me,\nOh, though my friends forsake me,\nOh, even that couldn't make me go back.\nDon't let me change my heart,\nKeep me set apart\nFrom all the plans they do pursue\nAnd I--I don't mind the pain,\nDon't mind the driving rain,\nI know I will sustain 'cause I believe in you."}
{"name": "Time Passes Slowly", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,\nWe set beside bridges and walk beside fountains,\nCatch the wild fishes that float through the stream -\nTime passes slowly when you're lost in a dream.\n\nOnce I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-looking,\nWe sat in her kitchen while her mama was cooking,\nStaring out the window to the stars high above -\nTime passes slow when you're searching for love.\n\nAin't no reason to go in a wagon to town,\nAin't no reason to go to the fair,\nAin't no reason to go up, ain't no reason to go down,\nAin't no reason to go anywhere.\n\nTime passes slowly up here in the daylight,\nStares straight ahead and tries so hard to stay right,\nLike the red rose of summer that blooms in the day\nTime passes slowly and fades away."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "They say every man must need protection,\nThey say every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSome place so high above the wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nDown here next to me in this lonely crowd\nThere's a man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him cry so loud,\nCalling out that he's been framed.\nYeah, I see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black cloud is coming down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "\"There must be some way outta here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no release.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour's getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "Solid Rock", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "Well, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of the world,\nAnd I won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nFor me He was chastised, for me He was hated,\nFor me He was rejected by a world that He created.\nNations are angry, cursed are some,\nPeople are expecting a false peace to come.\nWell, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of--of the world,\nAnd I won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nIt's the ways of the flesh to war against the spirit,\nTwenty-four hours a day you can feel it and you can hear it,\nUsing every angle under the sun,\nAnd it never give up till the battle's lost or won.\nWell, I'm hanging on\nTo a solid rock,\nMade before the foundation of--of the world,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go no more.\n\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nI won't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go,\nWon't let go and I can't let go."}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "Biograph", "album_year": "1985", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "You Wanna Ramble", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "Well, I told my baby, I said, \"Baby, I know where you been,\nI know who you are and what league you play in.\"\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn.\n\nWell, the night is so empty, so quiet and still,\nFor only fifteen hundred dollars you can have anybody killed.\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble, yeah, to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn.\n\nWell, I told my baby further down the line,\nI said, \"What happens tomorrow is on your head, not mine.\"\nYou wanna ramble, yeah, to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble, uh, to the break of dawn,\nYou wanna ramble to the break of dawn."}
{"name": "They Killed Him", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "There was a man named Mahatma Gandhi,\nWouldn't bow down, he would not fight.\nHe knew the deal was a-down and dirty,\nNothing wrong could make it right away,\nBut he knew his duty and the price he had to pay,\nJust another holy man who dared to be a friend.\n\nMy God, they killed Him!\n\nAnother man from Atlanta, Georgia,\nName of Martin Luther King,\nHe shook the land like a rolling thunder,\nHe made the bells of freedom ring today\nWith a dream of beauty that they cannot take away,\nJust another holy man who dared to make a stand.\n\nMy God, they killed Him!\n\nThe only son of God Almighty,\nThe holy one called Jesus Christ,\nHe healed the sick and He fed the hungry\nAnd for His love they took His life away\nOn the road to glory where the story never ends,\nJust the holy son of man I'll never understand.\n\nMy God, they killed Him!\n\nThere was a man named Mahatma Gandhi,\nA man named Martin Luther King,\nThe only son of God Almighty,\nThe holy one called Jesus Christ,\nOn the road to glory where the story never ends,\nJust the holy son of man I'll never understand.\n\nMy God, they killed Him!\n\nThere was a man named Mahatma Gandhi,\nA man named Martin Luther King,\nThe only son of God Almighty,\nThe holy one called Jesus Christ,\nOn the road to glory where the story never ends,\nJust the holy son of man I'll never understand.\n\nMy God, they killed Him!\n\nThere was a man named Mahatma Gandhi,\nA man named Martin Luther King,\nThe only son of God Almighty,\nThe holy one called Jesus Christ.\n\nThere was a man named Mahatma Gandhi,\nA man named Martin Luther King..."}
{"name": "Driftin' Too Far from the Shore", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "I didn't know that you'd be leaving -\nWho you thought you were talking to?\nI figure maybe we're even\nOr maybe I'm one up on you.\nI send you all my money\nJust like I did before,\nI tried to reach you, honey,\nBut you're drifting too far from shore,\nDrifting too far from shore, yeah,\nDrifting too far from shore.\n\nI ain't a-gonna get lost in this current,\nI don't like playing cat-and-mouse.\nNo gentleman likes making love to a servant,\n'Specially when he's in his father's house.\nI never could guess your weight, baby,\nNever needed to call you my whore,\nI always thought you were straight, baby,\nBut you're drifting too far from shore, yeah,\nDrifting too far from shore,\nDrifting too far from shore,\nDrifting too far from shore.\n\nWell, these times and these tunnels are haunted,\nThe bottom of the barrel is too.\nI've waited years sometimes for what I've wanted,\nEverybody can't be as lucky as you.\nNever no more do I wonder\nWhy you don't never play with me anymore:\nAt any moment you could go under\n'Cause you're drifting too far from shore, yeah,\nDrifting too far from shore,\nDrifting too far from shore,\nDrifting too far from shore.\n\nYou and me, we had completeness,\nI gave you all of what I could provide.\nWe weren't on the wrong side, sweetness,\nWe were the wrong side.\nI've already ripped out the phones, honey,\nYou can't walk the streets in a war.\nI can finish this alone, honey,\nYou're drifting too far from shore."}
{"name": "Precious Memories", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "As I travel down life's pathway,\nKnow not what the years may hold.\nAs I ponder, hopes grow fonder,\nPrecious memories flood my soul.\n\nPrecious memories, how they linger,\nHow they ever flood my soul!\nIn the stillness of the midnight\nPrecious, sacred scenes unfold.\n\nPrecious father, loving mother,\nGlide across the lonely years\nAnd old homes, scenes of my childhood\nIn fond memory appear.\n\nPrecious memories, how they linger,\nHow they ever flood my soul!\nIn the stillness of the midnight\nPrecious, sacred scenes unfold.\n\nPrecious memories, how they linger,\nHow they ever flood my soul!\nIn the stillness of the midnight\nPrecious, sacred scenes unfold."}
{"name": "Maybe Someday", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "Maybe someday you'll be satisfied,\nWhen you've lost everything, you'll have nothing left to hide,\nWhen you're through running over things like you're walking 'cross the tracks,\nMaybe you'll beg me like a dog to take you back.\nMaybe someday you'll find out everybody's somebody's fool,\nMaybe, then, you'll realize what it would've taken to keep me cool.\nMaybe someday, when you're by yourself, alone,\nYou'll know the love that I had for you was never my own.\n\nMaybe someday you'll have nowhere to turn,\nYou'll look back and wonder 'bout the bridges you have burned,\nYou'll look back sometime when the lights grow dim\nAnd you'll see you look much better with me than you do with him.\nThrough hostile cities and unfriendly towns,\nThirty pieces of silver, no money down.\nMaybe someday you will understand\nThat something for nothing is everybody's plan.\n\nMaybe someday you'll remember what you felt\nWhen there was blood on the moon, in the cotton belt.\nWhen both of us, baby, were going though some kind of a test,\nEither one of us could do what we do best.\nI should have known better, baby, I should have called your bluff,\nI guess I was too off the handle, not sentimental enough.\nMaybe someday you'll believe me when I say\nThat I wanted you, baby, in every kind of way.\n\nMaybe someday you'll hear a voice from on high,\nSaying, \"For whose sake did you live? For whose sake did you die?\"\nForgive me, baby, for what I didn't do,\nFor not breaking down no bedroom door to get at you.\nAlways was a sucker for the right cross,\nNever wanted to go home till the last cent was lost.\nMaybe someday you will look back and see\nThat I made it so easy for you to follow me.\n\nMaybe someday there'll be nothing to tell,\nBut I'm just as happy as you, baby, I just can't say it so well.\nNever slumbered or slept or waited for lightning to strike,\nThere's no excuse for you to say that we don't think alike.\nYou said you were going to Frisco, stay a couple of months -\nI always liked San Francisco, I was there for a party once.\nMaybe someday you'll see that it's true,\nThere was no greater love than what I had for you."}
{"name": "Brownsville Girl", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "Well, there was this movie I seen one time\nAbout a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck.\nHe was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself.\nThe townspeople wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.\n\nWell, the marshal, now, he beat that kid to a bloody pulp\nAs the dying gunfighter lay on the sun and gasped for his last breath.\n\"Turn him loose, let him go, let him say he outdrew me fair and square.\nI want him to feel what it's like to every moment face his death.\"\n\nWell, I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in\nAnd, you know, it blows right through me like a ball and chain.\nYou know, I can't believe we've lived so long and are still so far apart,\nThe memory of you keeps calling after me like a rolling train.\n\nI can still see the day you came to me on the painted desert\nIn your busted down Ford and your platform heels.\nI could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet -\nAh, but you were right, it was perfect as I got in behind the wheel.\n\nWell, we drove that car all night until we got into San Anton'\nAnd we slept near the Alamo - your skin was so tender and soft.\nWay down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back.\nI would have gone on after you, but I didn't feel like letting my head get blown off.\n\nWell, we're driving this car and the sun is coming up over the Rockies -\nNow, I know she ain't you, but she's here and she's got that dark rhythm in her soul,\nBut I'm too over the edge and I ain't in the mood anymore\nTo remember the times when I was your only man\nAnd she don't wanna remind me, she knows this car would go out of control.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nWell, we crossed the panhandle and then we headed towards Amarillo.\nWe pulled up where Henry Porter used to live -\nHe owned a wrecking lot outside of town about a mile.\nRuby was in the backyard hanging clothes, she had her red hair tied back,\nShe saw us come rolling up in a trail of dust.\nShe says, \"Henry ain't here, but you can come on in, he'll be back in a little while.\"\n\nThen she told us how times were tough \nAnd about how she was thinking of bumming a ride back to from where she started,\nBut she changed the subject every time money came up.\nShe said, \"Welcome to the land of the living dead\",\nBut you could tell she was so broken-hearted,\nShe said, \"Even the swap meets around here are getting pretty corrupt.\"\n\n\"How far are you all going?\" Ruby asked us with a sigh.\n\"We going all the way till the wheels fall off and burn,\nTill the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies.\"\nRuby just smiled and said, \"Ah, you know some babies never learn.\"\n\nSomething about that movie, though - but I just can't get it outta my head -\nBut I can't remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play.\nAll I remember about it was-is Gregory Peck and the way that people moved\nAnd a lot of 'em, they seemed to be looking my way.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nWell, they were looking for somebody with a pompadour,\nI was crossing the street when shots rang out.\nI didn't know whether to duck or to run, so I ran.\n\"We got him cornered in the churchyard!\" I heard somebody shout.\n\nWell, you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune,\nUnderneath it it said, \"A man with no alibi\".\nYou went out on a limb to testify for me, you said I was with you.\nThen, when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears,\nIt was the best acting I saw anybody do.\n\nNow, I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trespass,\nBut sometimes you just find yourself over the line.\nOh, if there's an original thought out there, I could use it right now,\nYou know, I feel pretty good, but that ain't saying much.\nI could feel a whole lot better\nIf you were just here by my side to show me how.\n\nWell, I'm standing in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck,\nYeah, but, you know, it's not the one that I had in mind.\nHe's got a new one out now, I don't even know what it's about,\nBut I'll see him in anything, so I'll stand in line.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nYou know, it's funny how things never turn out the way you had 'em planned.\nThe only thing we knew for sure about Henry Porter \nIs that his name wasn't Henry Porter.\nAnd, you know, there was something about you, baby,\nThat I liked, that was always too good for this world.\nJust like you always said, there was something about me you liked \nThat I left in the French Quarter.\n\nStrange how people who suffer together have stronger connections \nThan people who are most content.\nI don't have any regrets - they can talk about me plenty when I'm gone.\nYou always said people don't do what they believe in,\nThey just do what's most convenient, then they repent.\nAnd I always said, \"Hang on to me, baby, and let's hope that the roof stays on.\"\n\nThere was a movie I seen one time - I think I sat through it twice,\nI don't remember who I was or where I was bound,\nAll I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck,\nHe wore a gun and he was shot in the back.\nSeems like a long time ago, long before the stars were torn down.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love."}
{"name": "Got My Mind Made Up", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "Don't ever try to change me,\nI been in this thing too long.\nThere's nothing you can say or do\nTo make me think I'm wrong.\nWell, I'm going off to Libya,\nThere's a guy I gotta see.\nHe been living there three years now\nIn an oil refinery.\nI got my mind made up,\nOh, got my mind made up.\n\nOh!\n\nCall your ma in Tallahassee,\nTell her her baby's on the line.\nTell her not to worry,\nEverything is gonna be fine.\nWell, I gave you all my money,\nAll my connections too.\nThere ain't nothing in this world\nYou can say I didn't give to you.\nI got my mind made up, yeah!\nGot my mind made up.\n\nYou will be alright, girl,\nSomeone's watching over you.\nHe won't do nothing to you,\nBaby, that I wouldn't do.\nWell, if you don't want to see me,\nLook a-the other way.\nYou don't have to feed me,\nI ain't your dog that's gone astray.\nI got my mind made up,\nI got my mind made up,\nGot my mind made up,\nI got my mind made up,\nGot my mind made up."}
{"name": "Under Your Spell", "album": "Knocked Out Loaded", "album_year": "1986", "text": "Something about you that I can't shake,\nDon't know how much more of this I can take.\nBaby, I'm under your spell.\n\nI was knocked out and loaded in the naked night,\nWhen my last dream exploded, I noticed your light.\nBaby, oh, what a story I could tell!\n\nIt's been nice seeing you, you read me like a book.\nIf you ever want to reach me, you know where to look,\nBaby, I'll be at the same hotel.\n\nI'd like to help you, but I'm in a bit of a jam,\nI'll call you tomorrow if there's phones where I am,\nBaby, caught between heaven and hell.\n\nBut I will be back, I will survive,\nYou'll never get rid of me as long as you're alive,\nBaby, can't you tell?\n\nWell, it's four in the morning by the sound of the birds,\nI'm staring at your picture, I'm hearing your words,\nBaby, they ring in my head like a bell.\n\nEverywhere you go, it's enough to break hearts,\nSomeone always gets hurt, a fire always starts.\nYou were too hot to handle, you were breaking every vow,\nI trusted you, baby, you can trust me now.\n\nTurn back, baby, wipe your eye,\nDon't think I'm leaving you here without a kiss goodbye.\nBaby, is there anything left to tell?\n\nI'll see you later when I'm not so out of my head,\nMaybe next time I'll let the dead bury the dead.\nBaby, what more can I tell?\n\nWell, the desert is hot, the mountain is cursed,\nPray that I don't die of thirst,\nBaby, two feet from the well."}
{"name": "Let's Stick Together", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "Well, the marriage vow, you know, it's very sacred,\nMan put us together, now, you wanna make it stick together,\nCome on, come on, stick together,\nYou know, you made a vow not to leave one another, never.\n\nWell, you never miss your water till your well runs dry,\nCome on, baby, give our love a try, let's stick together,\nCome on, come on, stick together,\nWe made a vow not to leave one another, never.\n\nWell, you never miss your water till your well runs dry,\nCome on, baby, give our love a try, let's stick together,\nCome on, come on, let's stick together,\nYou know, we made a vow not to leave one another, never.\n\nIt might be tough for a while, but consider the child\nCannot be happy without his mom and his pappy, let's stick together,\nCome on, come on, stick together,\nYou know, we made a vow not to leave one another, never."}
{"name": "When Did You Leave Heaven?", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "When did you leave heaven?\nHow could they let you go?\nHow's everything in heaven?\nI'd like to know.\n\nWhy did you trade heaven\nFor all these earthly things?\nWhere did you hide your halo?\nWhere did you lose your wings?\n\nHave they missed you?\nCan you get back in?\nIf I kiss you, would it be a sin?\nI am only human, but you are so divine.\nWhen did you leave heaven, angel mine?"}
{"name": "Sally Sue Brown", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "Look who's back in town,\nAin't nobody but Sally Sue Brown,\nAll you boys better run for cover\nIf you don't a-wanna be a brokenhearted lover.\n\nSee her in that very tight skirt,\nGot what it takes just to make you hurt.\nDon't be deceived by those big, bright eyes,\nThey're full of cheating, misery, low-down lies.\n\nMakes no difference where she's been,\nI know Sal been doing them things again,\nBreaking a-hearts up and down the line\nLike a-she a-broke a-this heart of mine.\n\nI'll go see them come down my way,\nLike a fool, you're not gonna hear me say,\n\"Lay at your bed, Sally Sue Brown,\nPlease let me love you, baby, don't put me down.\"\n\nMakes no difference where she's been,\nI know Sal been doing them things again,\nBreaking hearts up and down the line\nLike a-she a-broke a-this a-heart of mine.\n\nThere she come, now, down my way,\nLike a fool, you're not gonna hear me say,\n\"Lay at your bed, Sally Sue Brown,\nPlease a-let me love you, baby, don't put me down.\""}
{"name": "Death Is Not the End", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "When you're sad and when you're lonely and you haven't got a friend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nAnd all that you've held sacred falls down and does not mend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nNot the end, not the end,\nJust remember that death is not the end.\n\nWhen you're standing on the crossroads that you cannot comprehend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nAnd all your dreams have vanished and you don't know what's up the bend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nNot the end, not the end,\nJust remember that death is not the end.\n\nWhen the storm clouds gather 'round you and heavy rains descend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nAnd there's no one there to comfort you with a helping hand to lend,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nNot the end, not the end,\nJust remember that death is not the end.\n\nOh, the tree of life is growing where the spirit never dies\nAnd the bright light of salvation shines in dark and empty skies.\n\nWhen the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nAnd you search in vain to find just one law-abiding citizen,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nNot the end, not the end,\nJust remember that death is not the end,\nNot the end, not the end,\nJust remember that death is not the end."}
{"name": "Had a Dream about You, Baby", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "I got to see you, baby, I don't care,\nIt may be some place, baby, you say where.\nI had a dream about you, baby,\nDream about you, baby,\nLate last night you come rolling across my mind.\n\nYou got the crazy rhythm when you walk,\nYou make me nervous when you start to talk.\nI had a dream about you, baby,\nA dream about you, baby,\nLate last night you come rolling across my mind.\n\nI stand on highway, baby flag me down,\nSaid, \"Take me, daddy, to the nearest town.\"\nI had a dream about you, baby,\nHad a dream about you, baby,\nLate last night you come rolling across my mind.\n\nThe joint is jumping,\nIt's really something,\nThe beat is pumping,\nWell, I'm just thumping.\nSpent my money on you, honey,\nMy limbs are shaking,\nMy mind is breaking.\n\nYou kiss me, baby, in the coffee shop,\nYou make me so mad I tell you to stop.\nI had a dream about you, baby,\nDream about you, baby,\nLate last night you come rolling across my mind.\n\nThe joint is jumping,\nIt's really something,\nThe beat is pumping,\nWell, I'm just thumping.\nSpent my money on you, honey,\nMy limbs are shaking,\nMy mind is breaking.\n\nYou wear a blue scarf upon your head,\nWear a long dress fire-engine red.\nI had a dream about you, baby,\nDream about you, baby,\nLate last night you come rolling across my mind."}
{"name": "Ugliest Girl in the World", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "Well, the woman that I love, she got a hook in her nose,\nHer eyebrows meet, she wears second-hand clothes,\nShe speaks a-with a stutter and she walks with a hop,\nI don't know why I love her, but I just can't stop,\nYou know, I love her, yeah, I love her,\nI'm in love with the ugliest girl in the world.\n\nIf I ever lose her, I will go insane,\nI go half-crazy when she calls my name,\nShe say, \"Baby, baby, baby, baby, I lo-lo-love you\",\nThere ain't nothing in the world that I wouldn't do.\nYou know, I love her, yeah, I love her,\nI'm in love with the ugliest girl in the world.\n\nWoman that I love, she got two flat feet,\nHer knees knock together walking down the street,\nShe cracks her knuckles and she snores in bed,\nShe ain't much to look at, but, like I said,\nI love her, yeah, I love her,\nI'm in love with the ugliest girl in the world.\n\nI don't mean to say that she got nothing going,\nShe got a weird sense of humor that's all her own.\nWhen I get low, she sets me on my feet,\nGot a five-inch smile, but her breath is sweet.\nYou know, I love her, yeah, I love her,\nI'm in love with the ugliest girl in the world, hey!\n\nWoman that I love, she got a hook in her nose,\nHer eyebrows meet, she wears second-hand clothes,\nShe speaks with a stutter and she walk with a hop,\nI don't know why I love her, but I just can't stop,\nI know I love her, yeah, I love her,\nI'm in love with the ugliest girl in the world."}
{"name": "Silvio", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "Stake my future on a hell of a past,\nLooks like tomorrow is a-coming on fast,\nAin't complaining 'bout what I got,\nI seen better times, but who has not?\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nHonest as the next jade rolling that stone,\nWhen I come a-knocking, don't throw me no bone.\nI'm an old boll weevil looking for a home\nAnd, if you don't like me, you can leave me alone.\nI can snap my fingers and require the rain\nFrom a clear, blue sky and turn it off again,\nI can stroke your body and relieve your pain,\nCharm the whistle off an evening train.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nGive what I got until I got no more,\nI take what I gets and I even the score,\nYou know I love you and, furthermore,\nWhen it's time to go, you got an open door.\nI can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain,\nYou give something up for everything you gain.\nSince every pleasure's got an edge of pain,\nPay for your ticket and don't complain.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go,\nGo find out something only dead men know.\n\nOne of these days - and it won't be long -\nGoing down in the valley and sing my song.\nGonna sing it loud, sing it strong,\nLet the echo decide if I was right or wrong.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know."}
{"name": "Ninety Miles an Hour (Down a Dead End Street)", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "I took you home from a party and we kissed in fun,\nA few stolen kisses and no harm was done.\n'Steada stopping when we could, we went right on\nTill suddenly we found that the brakes were gone.\n\nYou belong to someone else and I do too,\nIt's just crazy being here with you\nAs a bad motorcycle with the devil in the seat\nGoing ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street,\nNinety miles an hour down a dead-end street.\n\nI didn't want to want you, now I have no choice,\nIt's too late to listen to that warning voice,\nAll I hear is thunder of two hearts' beat\nDoing ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street,\nYeah, ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street.\n\nYou're not free to belong to me\nAnd you know I could never be your own,\nYour lips on mine are like sweet, sweet wine,\nBut we're heading for a wall of stone.\n\nWarning signs are eve-flashing everywhere, but we pay no heed,\n'Stead of slowing down the place, we keep a-picking up speed,\nDisaster's getting closer at every time we meet\nGoing ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street,\nYeah, ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street,\nWell, ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street."}
{"name": "Shenandoah", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "Oh, Shenandoah, I long to hear you -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nOh, Shenandoah, I long to hear you -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri.\n\nNow, the Missouri is a mighty river -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nIndians camp along her border -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri.\n\nWell, a white man loved an Indian maiden -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nWith notions his canoe was laden -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri.\n\nOh, Shenandoah, I love your daughter -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nIt was for her I'd cross the water -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri.\n\nFor seven long years I courted Sally -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nSeven more years I longed to have her -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri.\n\nWell, it's fare thee well, my dear, I'm bound to leave you -\nLook away, you rolling river,\nShenandoah, I will not deceive you -\nLook away, we're bound away across the wide Missouri."}
{"name": "Rank Strangers to Me", "album": "Down in the Groove", "album_year": "1988", "text": "I wandered again to my home in the mountain\nWhere in youth's early dawn I was happy and free,\nI looked for my friends, but I never could find them,\nI found they were all rank strangers to me.\n\nEverybody I met seemed to be a rank stranger,\nNo mother or dad, not a friend could I see,\nThey knew not my name and I knew not their faces,\nI found they were all rank strangers to me.\n\n\"They've all moved a way,\" said the voice of a stranger,\n\"To that beautiful shore by the bright, crystal sea.\"\nSome beautiful day I'll meet 'em in heaven\nWhere no one will be a stranger to me.\n\nEverybody I met seemed to be a rank stranger,\nNo mother or dad, not a friend could I see,\nThey knew not my name and I knew not their faces,\nI found they were all rank strangers to me."}
{"name": "Slow Train", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Sometimes feel so low-down and disgusted,\nCan't help but wonder what's a-happening to my companions:\nAre they lost or are they found? Have they counted the cost it'll take to bring down\nAll their earthly principles they're gonna have to abandon?\nFor there's a slow - there's a slow, slow train coming.\n\nI had a woman down in Alabama,\nShe was a backwoods girl, but she sure was realistic,\nShe said, \"Boy, without a doubt, gotta quit your mess and straighten out,\nYou could die down here, be another accident statistic.\"\nFor there's a slow--said there's a slow, slow train coming.\n\nMan's ego's inflated, you know, his laws are outdated,\nYou can't rely no more to be standing around waiting.\nIn the home of the brave, Jefferson in his grave,\nFools glorify themselves trying to manipulate Satan -\nFor there's a slow--said there's a slow, slow train coming.\n\nAll that foreign oil - American soil -\nThat don't apply no more - all from parts of Paris.\n[incomprehensible] in the grave - in American future -\nLook around you, it's just bound to make you embarrassed!\nOh, God, 'cause when - Amsterdam and Paris -\nBut there's a slow - yeah, there's a slow - there's a slow train coming.\n\nWell, my baby went to Illinois with some boy she could destroy,\nHe was [incomprehensible], there was nothing I could do to stop it.\nOh, lose your inhibition [incomprehensible] -\nBut it sure - my loved ones turning into puppets -\nThere's a slow - there's a slow, slow train coming,\nThere's a slow - there's a slow, slow train coming,\nFor there's a slow - there's a slow, slow train coming."}
{"name": "I Want You", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Gypsy undertaker sighs, the lonesome-organ grinder cries,\nThe silver saxophones say I should refuse you.\nThe cracked bells and washed-out horns blow into my face with scorn,\nBut it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nDrunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep,\nSaviors are fast asleep, wait for you.\nWait for them to interrupt me drinking from this broken cup\nAnd ask me to open up the gate for you.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nAll my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nAll their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nI return to the Queen of Spades, talk a-with the chambermaid,\nShe knows I'm not afraid to look at her.\nShe is good to me, there's a-nothing she doesn't see,\nShe knows where I'd like to be, but it doesn't matter.\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you so bad,\nHoney, I want you.\n\nOh, all my fathers, they've gone down,\nTrue love, they've been without it,\nAll their daughters put me down\n'Cause I don't think about it.\n\nI return to the Chinese flute - touching me, it wasn't cute -\nNo, I wasn't very cute to him, was I?\nI did it for - because he lied, 'cause he took you for a ride,\n'Cause time was on his side and because I\nWant you,\nI want you,\nWant you so bad,\nI want you,\nI want you,\nI want you."}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "You might a janitor out on the [incomprehensible],\nMight be a conductor flagging down a train,\nMay be rich or poor, may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody,\nServe somebody:\nIt might be the devil, it might be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody.\n\nMight be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nMay be sitting in a [incomprehensible] smoking pearl,\nMay be hung on the dais, hanging out to dry,\nYou may be standing there with a tear in your eye,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody,\nServe somebody:\nIt might be the devil, it might be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody.\n\nCome down the [incomprehensible], don't leave me behind,\nKeep all your trouble or give it to the blind,\nYou might be rich or poor, may be a parasite too,\nLiving on your country or jobs offered you,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody,\nOne of these days you're gonna serve somebody:\nIt might be the devil, it might be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody.\n\nYou might be hungry, you might be [incomprehensible],\nMight be reading \"Art of Truth\", might be outta luck,\nMay be working in the wind down to the town,\nDown on the surface with a [incomprehensible],\nBut you're gonna serve somebody,\nYeah, serve somebody:\nIt might be the devil, it might be the Lord,\nGonna serve somebody.\n\nYou might be [incomprehensible] on the start,\nSleeping in the saddle, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nSleeping in the alley, sleeping in the dust,\nSleeping in the [incomprehensible] on the back of the dust,\nBut you're gonna serve somebody,\nServe somebody:\nIt might be the devil, it might be the Lord,\nGonna serve somebody,\nServe somebody,\nServe somebody,\nServe somebody,\nServe somebody,\nYou've got to serve somebody,\nYou've got to serve somebody,\nYou got to serve somebody,\nYou got to serve somebody,\nYou're gonna have to serve somebody,\nGonna have to serve somebody,\nGonna have to serve somebody,\nYou gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "Queen TJane Approximately", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "When your mother sends back all your invitations\nAnd your father, to your sister he explains\nThat you're tired of yourself and all your creations,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nWhen all the clowns that you have commissioned\nHave died - have died in battle or in vain\nAnd you're tired trying to get out of - of situations,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nWhen your [incomprehensible] all advisers heave their plastic\nAt your feet - at your feet to convince you of your pain,\nAnd you - and you wish your situation be more drastic,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nWhen all - all of the bandits you have commissioned\nHave beat out your destruction or your pain\nAnd you want someone to put out your ambition,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\n\nWell, when all your - all the bandits that you turn your other cheek to\nTry to steal back your numbness, all your pain\nAnd you want someone that you don't have to speak to,\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?\nWon't you come see me, Queen Jane?"}
{"name": "Joey", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Born in Red Hook, Brooklyn, in the year of who knows when,\nOpened up his eyes to the tune of an accordion,\nAlways on the outside of whatever side there was,\nWhen they asked him why it had to be that way, \"Well,\" he answered, \"just because.\"\nLarry was the oldest, Joey was a-next to last,\nThey called Joe \"Crazy\", the baby they called \"Kid Blast\",\nSome say they lived off gambling and running numbers too,\nSeemed like always they'd be caught between the mob and the men in blue.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nThere was talk they killed their rivals, but the truth was far from that,\nNo one really knew for sure wherever they were at.\nThey tried to strangle Larry, Joey almost a-hit the roof,\nHe went out that night to seek revenge, thinking he was bulletproof.\nWhen a horror broke out at the break of dawn and emptied out the streets,\nJoey and his brothers suffered terrible defeats.\nWell, they ventured out behind the line and took five prisoners,\nStashed 'em away in a basement, called 'em \"amateurs\".\nThe hostages were trembling when they heard a man exclaim,\n\"Let's blow this place to kingdom come, let Con Edison take the blame.\"\nBut Joey stepped up and he raised his hands, said, \"We're not those kind of men,\nIt's peace and quiet that we need to go back to work again.\"\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nThe police department hounded him and called him \"Mr. Smith\",\nThey got him on conspiracy, but they never said who with.\n\"What time is it?\" said the judge to Joey when they met.\n\"Five to ten,\" said Joey. Judge says, \"That's just what you get.\"\nHe did ten years in Attica, [incomprehensible] and Wilhelm Reich,\nThey threw him in the hole one time for trying to stop a strike,\nHis closest friends were black men 'cause they seemed to understand\nWhat it's like to be in society with a shackle on your hand.\nThey let him out in '71, I swear he did look great,\nHe dressed like Jimmy Cagney, but he did - lost a little weight.\nHe tried to find a way back into where he left behind,\nTo the boss he said, \"I have returned and now I want what's mine.\"\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhy did they have to come blow you away?\n\nIt's true that in his later years he would not carry a gun:\n\"I'm around too many children,\" he said, \"they should never know of one.\"\nYet he walked right into the clubhouse of his lifelong, deadly foe\nAnd emptied out the register, said, \"Tell 'em it was Crazy Joe.\"\nOne day they blew him down in a clam bar in New York,\nHe could see it coming through the door as he lifted up his fork.\nHe pushed the table over to protect his family,\nThen he staggered out into the streets of Little Italy.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?\n\nSister Jacqueline, sister Carmela, and mother Mary all did weep,\nI heard his best friend, Frankie, say, \"He ain't dead, he's just asleep\",\nThen I saw the old man's limousine head back towards the grave -\nI guess he had to say one last goodbye to the son that he could not save.\nThe sun turned cold over President Street and the town of Brooklyn mourned,\nThey said a mass in the old church near the house where he was born.\nSomeday, if God's in heaven overlooking His preserve,\nI know that the men that shot him down will get what they deserve.\n\nJoey, Joey,\nKing of the streets, child of clay,\nJoey, Joey,\nWhat made them want to come and blow you away?"}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "\"There must be some way outta here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, you know, the hour is getting late.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, you know, the hour's getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view,\nAll the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Dylan & the Dead", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nFeel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nJust like so many times before.\n\nMama, wipe the blood outta my eyes,\nI can't see through it anymore.\nSuddenly I'm like crawled up in my side\nAnd I feel like I'm knocking on a-heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't fight them anymore.\nThat long, black train is pulling down\nAnd I feel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "Political World", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "We live in a political world,\nLove don't have any place,\nWe living in times when men commit crimes\nAnd crime don't have a face.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nIcicles hanging down,\nWedding bells ring and angels sing\nAnd clouds cover up the ground.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nWisdom is thrown into jail,\nIt rots in a cell misguided as hell,\nLeaving no one to pick up the trail.\n\nWe live in a political world\nWhere mercy walks the plank,\nLife is in mirrors, death disappears\nUp the steps into the nearest bank.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nCourage is a thing of the past,\nHouses are haunted, children are unwanted,\nThe next day could be your last.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nThe one we can see and can feel,\nBut there's no one to check, it's all a stacked deck,\nWe all know for sure that it's real.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nThe cities of a lonesome fear,\nLittle by little you turn in the middle,\nBut you're never sure why you're here.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nUnder the microscope,\nYou can travel anywhere and hang yourself there,\nYou always got more than enough rope.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nTurning and a-thrashing about,\nAs soon as you're awake, you're trained to take\nWhat looks like the easy way out.\n\nWe live in a political world\nWhere peace is not welcome at all,\nIt's turned away from the door to wander some more\nOr put up against the wall.\n\nWe live in a political world,\nEverything's a-hers or his,\nClimb into the frame and shout God's name,\nBut you're not even sure what it is."}
{"name": "Where Teardrops Fall", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Far away where the soft winds blow,\nFar away from it all,\nThere is a place you go\nWhere teardrops fall.\n\nFar away in the stormy night,\nFar away and over the wall,\nYou are there in the flickering light\nWhere teardrops fall.\n\nWe banged the drum slowly\nAnd played the fife lowly,\nYou know the song in my heart.\nIn the turning of twilight,\nIn the shadows of moonlight,\nYou can show me a new place to start.\n\nI've torn my clothes and I've drained the cup,\nStripping away at it all,\nThinking of you when the sun comes up\nWhere teardrops fall.\n\nBy rivers of blindness,\nIn love and with kindness,\nWe can hold up a toast if we meet\nTo the cutting of fences\nTo sharpen the senses\nThat linger in the fireball heat.\n\nRoses are red, violets are blue,\nAnd time is beginning to crawl.\nI just might have to come see you\nWhere teardrops fall."}
{"name": "Everything Is Broken", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Broken lines, broken strings,\nBroken threads, broken springs,\nBroken idols, broken heads,\nPeople sleeping in broken beds.\nAin't no use jiving, ain't no use joking,\nEverything is broken.\n\nBroken bottles, broken plates,\nBroken switches, broken gates,\nBroken dishes, broken parts,\nStreets are filled with broken hearts.\nBroken words never meant to be spoken,\nEverything is broken.\n\nSeem like, every time you stop and turn around,\nSomething else just a-hit the ground.\n\nBroken cutters, broken saws,\nBroken buckles, broken laws,\nBroken bodies, broken bones,\nBroken voices on broken phones.\nTake a deep breath, feel like you're choking,\nEverything is broken.\n\nEvery time you leave and go off some place,\nThings fall to pieces in my face.\n\nBroken hands on broken plows,\nBroken treaties, broken vows,\nBroken pipes, broken tools,\nPeople bending broken rules.\nHound dog howling, bull frog croaking,\nEverything is broken."}
{"name": "Ring Them Bells", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Ring them bells, ye heathen, from the city that dreams,\nRing them bells from the sanctuaries cross the valleys and streams\nFor they're deep and they're wide and the world's on its side\nAnd time is running backwards and so is the bride.\n\nRing them bells, St. Peter, where the four winds blow,\nRing them bells with an iron hand so the people will know.\nOh, it's rush hour now on the wheel and the plow\nAnd the sun is a-going down upon the sacred cow.\n\nRing them bells, sweet Martha, for the poor man's son,\nRing them bells so the world will know that-a God is one.\nOh, the shepherd is asleep where the willows weep\nAnd the mountains are filled with lost sheep.\n\nRing them bells for the blind and the deaf,\nRing them bells for all of us who are left,\nRing them bells for the chosen few\nWho will judge the many when the game is through,\nRing them bells for the time that flies,\nFor the child that cries when the innocence dies.\n\nRing them bells, St. Catherine, from the top of the room,\nRing them from the fortress for the lilies that bloom.\nOh, the lines are long and the fighting is strong\nAnd they're breaking down the distance between a-right and wrong."}
{"name": "Man in the Long Black Coat", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Crickets are chirping, the water is high,\nThere's a soft cotton dress on the line hanging dry,\nHer window's wide open, African trees\nBent over backwards from a hurricane breeze.\nNot a word of goodbye, not even a note,\nShe gone with the man in the long, black coat.\n\nSomebody seen him hanging around\nAt the old dance hall on the outskirts of town.\nHe looked into her eyes when she stopped him to ask\nIf he wanted to dance, he had a face like a mask.\nSomebody said from the Bible he'd quote,\nThere was dust on the man in the long, black coat.\n\nPreacher was a-talking, there's a sermon he gave,\nHe said every man's conscience is vile and depraved,\nYou cannot depend on it to be your guide\nWhen it's you who must keep it satisfied.\nIt ain't easy to swallow, it sticks in the throat,\nShe gave her heart to the man in the long, black coat.\n\n\"There are no mistakes in life,\" some people say\nAnd it's true sometime, you could see it that way,\nBut people don't live or die, people just float,\nShe went with the man in the long, black coat.\n\nThere's smoke on the water, it's a-been there since June,\nTree trunks uprooted 'neath the high crescent moon.\nFeel the pulse and vibration and the rumbling force,\nSomebody is out there beating on a dead horse.\nShe never said nothing, there was nothing she wrote,\nShe gone with the man in the long, black coat."}
{"name": "Most of the Time", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Most of the time I'm clear-focused all around,\nMost of the time I can keep both feet on the ground.\nI can follow the path, I can read the signs,\nStay right with it when the road unwinds,\nI can handle whatever I stumble upon,\nI don't even notice she gone\nMost of the time.\n\nMost of the time it's well understood,\nMost of the time I wouldn't change it if I could.\nI can make it all match up, I can hold my own,\nI can deal with the situation right down to the bone,\nI can survive and I can endure\nAnd I don't even think about her\nMost of the time.\n\nMost of the time my head is on straight,\nMost of the time I'm strong enough not to hate.\nI don't build up illusion till it makes me sick,\nI ain't afraid of confusion no matter how thick,\nI can smile in the face of mankind,\nDon't even remember what her lips felt like on mine\nMost of the time.\n\nMost of the time she ain't even in my mind,\nI wouldn't know her if I saw her, she's that far behind,\nMost of the time I can't even be sure\nIf she was ever with me or if I was ever with her.\nMost of the time I'm halfways content,\nMost of the time I know exactly where it all went.\nI don't cheat on myself, I don't run and hide,\nHide from the feelings that are buried inside,\nI don't compromise and I don't pretend,\nI don't even care if I ever see her again\nMost of the time."}
{"name": "What Good Am I?", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "What good am I if I'm like all the rest,\nIf I just turn away when I see how you're dressed,\nIf I shut myself off so I can't hear you cry,\nWhat good am I?\n\nWhat good am I if I know and don't do,\nIf I see and don't say, if I look right through you,\nIf I turn a deaf ear to the thundering sky,\nWhat good am I?\n\nWhat good am I while you softly weep\nAnd I hear in my head what you say in your sleep\nAnd I freeze in the moment like the rest who don't try,\nWhat good am I?\n\nWhat good am I then to others and me\nIf I've had every chance and yet still fail to see?\nIf my hands are tied, must I not wonder within\nWho tied them and why and where must I have been?\n\nWhat good am I if I say foolish things\nAnd I laugh in the face of what sorrow brings\nAnd I just turn my back while you silently die,\nWhat good am I?"}
{"name": "Disease of Conceit", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "There's a whole lotta people suffering tonight from the disease of conceit,\nWhole lotta people struggling tonight from the disease of conceit,\nCome right down the highway, straight down the line,\nRips into your senses, through your body and your mind,\nNothing about it that's sweet, the disease of conceit.\n\nThere's a whole lotta hearts breaking tonight from the disease of conceit,\nWhole lotta hearts shaking tonight from the disease of conceit,\nSteps into your room, eats into your soul,\nOver your senses you have no control,\nAin't nothing too discreet 'bout the disease of conceit.\n\nThere's a whole lotta people dying tonight from the disease of conceit,\nWhole lotta people crying tonight from the disease of conceit,\nComes right outta nowhere and you're down for the count,\nFrom the outside world the pressure will mount,\nTurn you into a piece of meat, the disease of conceit.\n\nConceit is a disease that the doctors got no cure,\nThey've done a lot of research on it, but what it is they're still not sure.\n\nThere's a whole lotta people in trouble tonight from the disease of conceit,\nWhole lotta people seeing double tonight from the disease of conceit,\nGive you delusions of grandeur and an evil eye,\nGive you idea that you're too good to die,\nThen they bury you from your head to your feet from the disease of conceit."}
{"name": "What Was It You Wanted?", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "What was it you wanted? Tell me again, so I'll know.\nWhat's happening in there? What's going on in your show?\nWhat was it you wanted? Could you say it again?\nI'll be back in a minute, you can get it together by then.\n\nWhat was it you wanted? You can tell me, I'm back.\nWe can start it all over, get it back on the track.\nYou got my attention, now go 'head, speak.\nWhat was it you wanted when you were kissing my cheek?\n\nWas there somebody looking when you give me that kiss,\nSomeone there in the shadows, someone that I might've missed?\nIs there something you needed, something I don't understand?\nWhat was it you wanted? Do I have it here in my hand?\n\nWhatever you wanted slipped out of my mind.\nWould you remind me again, if you'd be so kind?\nHas the record been breaking? Did the needle just skip?\nIs there somebody waiting? Was there a slip of the lip?\n\nWhat was it you wanted? I ain't keeping score.\nAre you the same person that was here before?\nIs it something important? Maybe not.\nWhat was it you wanted? Tell me again, I forgot.\n\nWhatever you wanted, what can it be?\nDid somebody tell you that you could get it from me?\nIs it something comes natural? Is it easy to say?\nWhy do you want it? Who are you, anyway?\n\nIs the scenery changing? Am I getting it wrong?\nIs the whole thing going backwards? Are they playing our song?\nWhere were you when it started? Do you want it for free?\nWhat was it you wanted? Are you talking to me?"}
{"name": "Shooting Star", "album": "Oh Mercy", "album_year": "1989", "text": "Seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of you,\nYou were trying to break into another world, a world I never knew.\nI always kinda wondered if you ever made it through.\nSeen a shooting star tonight and I thought of you.\n\nSeen a shooting star tonight and I thought of me,\nIf I was still the same, if I ever became what you wanted me to be.\nDid I miss the mark, overstep the line that only you could see?\nSeen a shooting star tonight and I thought of me.\n\nListen to the engine, listen to the bell\nAs the last fire-truck from hell\nGoes rolling by, all good people are praying.\nIt's the last temptation, the last account,\nLast time you might hear the sermon on the mount,\nLast radio is playing.\n\nSeen a shooting star tonight slip away,\nTomorrow will be another day.\nGuess it's too late to say the things to you that you needed to hear me say.\nSeen a shooting star tonight slip away."}
{"name": "Wiggle Wiggle", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a gypsy queen,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle all dressed in green,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle till the moon is blue,\nWiggle till the moon sees you.\n\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle in your boots and shoes,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle, you got nothing to lose,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a swarm of bees,\nWiggle on your hands and knees.\n\nWiggle to the front, wiggle to the rear,\nWiggle till you wiggle right outta here,\nWiggle till it opens, wiggle till it shuts,\nWiggle till it bites, wiggle till it cuts.\n\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a bowl of soup,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a rolling hoop,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a ton of lead,\nWiggle, you can raise the dead.\n\nWiggle till you're high, wiggle till you're higher,\nWiggle till you vomit fire,\nWiggle till it whispers, wiggle till it hums,\nWiggle till it answers, wiggle till it comes.\n\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like satin and silk,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a pail of milk,\nWiggle, wiggle, wiggle, rattle and shake,\nWiggle like a big, fat snake."}
{"name": "Under the Red Sky", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "There was a little boy and there was a little girl\nAnd they lived in an alley under the red sky,\nThere was a little boy and there was a little girl\nAnd they lived in an alley under the red sky.\n\nThere was an old man and he lived in the moon,\nOne summer's day he came passing by,\nThere was an old man and he lived in the moon\nAnd one day he came passing by.\n\nSomeday, little girl, everything for you is gonna be new,\nSomeday, little girl, you'll have a-a diamond as big as your shoe.\n\nLet the wind blow low, let the wind blow high,\nOne day the little boy and the little girl were both baked in a pie,\nLet the wind blow low and the wind blow high,\nOne day the little boy and little girl were baked in a pie.\n\nThis is the key to the kingdom and this is the town,\nThis is the blind horse that leads you around.\n\nLet the bird sing, let the bird fly,\nOne day the man in the moon went home and the river went dry,\nLet the bird sing, let the bird fly,\nMan in the moon went home and the river went dry."}
{"name": "Unbelievable", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "It's unbelievable, it's strange but true,\nIt's inconceivable it could happen to you.\nYou go north and you go south\nJust like bait in the fish's mouth,\nMust be living in the shadow of some kind of evil star,\nIt's unbelievable it would get this far.\n\nIt's undeniable what they'd have you to think,\nIt's indescribable, it can drive you to drink.\nSaid it was the land of milk and honey,\nNow they say it's the land of money.\nWho ever thought they'd ever make that stick?\nIt's unbelievable you can get this rich this quick.\n\nEvery head is so dignified,\nEvery moon is so sanctified,\nEvery urge is so satisfied as long as you're with me.\nAll the silver, all the gold,\nAll the sweethearts you can hold\nThat don't come back with stories untold are hanging on a tree.\n\nIt's unbelievable like a lead balloon,\nSo impossible to even learn the tune.\nKill that beast and feed that swine,\nScale that wall and smoke that vine,\nBeat that horse and saddle up the drum,\nIt's unbelievable the day would finally come.\n\nOnce there was a man who had no eyes,\nEvery lady in the land told him lies,\nHe stood beneath the silver skies and his heart began to bleed.\nEvery brain is civilized,\nEvery nerve is analyzed,\nEverything is criticized when you are in need.\n\nIt's unbelievable, it's fancy-free,\nSo interchangeable, so delightful to see.\nTurn your back, wash your hands,\nThere's always someone who understands,\nIt don't matter no more what you got to say,\nIt's unbelievable it go down this way."}
{"name": "Born in Time", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "In the lonely night,\nIn the blinking stardust of a pale-blue light,\nYou're coming through to me in black and white when we were made of dreams.\n\nYou're blowing down the shaky street,\nYou're hearing my heart beat\nIn the record-breaking heat where we were born in time.\n\nNot one more night, not one more kiss,\nNot this time, baby, no more of this.\nTakes too much skill, takes too much will, it's too revealing.\nYou came, you saw, just like the law,\nYou married young just like your ma,\nYou tried and tried, you made me slide, you left me reeling with this feeling.\n\nOn the rising curve\nWhere the ways of nature will test every nerve,\nYou don't get anything you don't deserve where we were born in time.\n\nYou pressed me once, you pressed me twice,\nYou hang the flame, you pay the price,\nOh, babe, that fire is still smoking.\nYou were snow, you were rain,\nYou were striped, you were plain,\nOh, babe, truer words have not been spoken or broken.\n\nIn the hills of mystery,\nIn the foggy web of destiny,\nYou can have what's left of me where we were born in time."}
{"name": "T.V. Talkin' Song", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "One time in London I'd gone out for a walk\nPast a place called Hyde Park where people talk\n'Bout all kinds of different gods, they have their point of view,\nTo anyone passing by, that's who they're talking to.\n\nThere was someone on a platform talking to the folks\nAbout the TV god and all the pain that it invokes.\n\"It's too bright a light,\" he said, \"for anybody's eyes,\nIf you've never seen one, it's a blessing in disguise.\"\n\nI moved in closer, got up on my toes,\nTwo men in front of me were coming to blows.\nMan was saying something 'bout children when they're young\nBeing sacrificed to it while lullabies are being sung.\n\n\"The news of the day is on all the time,\nAll the latest gossip, all the latest rhyme.\nYour mind is your temple, keep it beautiful and free,\nDon't let an egg get laid in it by something you can't see.\"\n\n\"Pray for peace!\" he said, you could feel it in the crowd.\nMy thoughts began to wander, but his voice was ringing loud.\n\"It will destroy your family, your happy home is gone.\nNo one can protect you from it once you turn it on.\"\n\n\"It will lead you into some strange pursuits,\nLead you to the land of forbidden fruits.\nIt'll scramble up your head, drag your brain about.\nSometimes you gotta do like Elvis did and shoot the damn thing out.\"\n\n\"It's all been designed,\" he said, \"to make you lose your mind\nAnd, when you go back to find it, there's nothing there to find.\nEvery time you look at it, your situation's worse.\nIf you feel it grabbing out for you, send for the nurse.\"\n\nThe crowd begun to riot and they grabbed hold of the man,\nThere was pushing, there was shoving, and everybody ran,\nTV crew was there to film it, they jumped right over me.\nLater on that evening I watched it on TV.\n\n[incomprehensible]"}
{"name": "10,000 Men", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "Ten thousand men on a hill,\nTen thousand men on a hill,\nSome of 'em going down, some of 'em gonna get killed.\n\nTen thousand men dressed in oxford blue,\nTen thousand men dressed in oxford blue,\nDrumming in the morning, in the evening they'll be coming for you.\n\nTen thousand men on the move,\nTen thousand men on the move,\nNone of them doing nothing that your mama wouldn't disapprove.\n\nTen thousand men digging for silver and gold,\nTen thousand men digging for silver and gold,\nAll clean-shaven, all coming in from the cold.\n\nHey! Who could your lover be?\nHey! Who could your lover be?\nLet me eat off his head and you can really see.\n\nTen thousand women all dressed in white,\nTen thousand women all dressed in white,\nStanding at my window, wishing me goodnight.\n\nTen thousand men looking so lean and frail,\nTen thousand men looking so lean and frail,\nEach one of 'em got seven wives, each one of 'em just out of jail.\n\nTen thousand women all sweeping my room,\nTen thousand women all sweeping my room,\nSpilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up with a broom.\n\nOoh, baby, thank you for my tea,\nBaby, thank you for my tea,\nIt's so sweet of you to be so nice to me."}
{"name": "2 x 2", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "One by one they followed the sun,\nOne by one until there were none,\nTwo by two to their lovers they flew,\nTwo by two, into the foggy dew,\nThree by three they danced on the sea,\nFour by four they danced on the shore,\nFive by five they tried to survive,\nSix by six they were playing with tricks.\n\nHow many paths did they try and fail?\nHow many of their brothers and sisters lingered in jail?\nHow much poison did they inhale?\nHow many black cats crossed their trail?\n\nSeven by seven they headed for heaven,\nEight by eight they got to the gate,\nNine by nine they drank the wine,\nTen by ten they drank it again.\n\nHow many tomorrows have they given away?\nHow many compared to yesterday?\nHow many more without any reward?\nHow many more can they afford?\n\nTwo by two they stepped into the ark,\nTwo by two they step in the dark,\nThree by three they're turning the key,\nFour by four they turn it some more.\nOne by one they follow the sun,\nTwo by two, to another rendezvous,\nThree by three, it don't set on me,\nFour by four, no illusion for,\nFive by five, as I stay on the line,\nSix by six..."}
{"name": "God Knows", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "God knows you ain't pretty,\nGod knows it's true,\nGod knows there ain't anybody ever gonna take the place of you.\n\nGod knows it's a struggle,\nGod knows it's a crime,\nGod knows there's gonna be no more water but fire next time.\n\nGod don't call it treason,\nGod don't call it wrong,\nIt was supposed to last a season, but it's been so strong for so long.\n\nGod knows it's fragile,\nGod knows everything,\nGod knows it could snap apart right now, just like putting scissors to a string.\n\nGod knows it's terrifying,\nGod sees it all unfold,\nThere's a million reasons for you to be crying, you been so bold and so cold.\n\nGod knows that, when you see it,\nGod knows you've got to weep,\nGod knows the secrets of your heart, He'll tell them to you when you're asleep.\n\nGod knows there's a river,\nGod knows how to make it flow,\nGod knows you ain't gonna be taking nothing with you when you go.\n\nGod knows there's a purpose,\nGod knows there's a chance,\nGod knows you can rise above the darkest hour of any circumstance.\n\nGod knows there's a heaven,\nGod knows it's outta sight,\nGod knows we can get all the way from here to there if we've gotta walk a million miles by candlelight.\n\nGod knows..."}
{"name": "Handy Dandy", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "Handy-dandy, controversy surrounds him,\nHe been around the world and back again,\nSomething in the moonlight still hounds him,\nHandy-dandy, just like sugar and candy.\n\nHandy-dandy, if every bone in his body was a-broken, he would never admit it,\nHe got an all-girl orchestra and, when he says\n\"Strike up the band,\" they hit it,\nHandy-dandy, handy-dandy.\n\nYou'll say, \"What are you made of?\"\nHe'll say, \"Can you repeat what you said?\"\nYou'll say, \"What are you afraid of?\"\nHe'll say, \"Nothing neither 'live nor dead.\"\n\nHandy-dandy, he got a stick in his hand and a pocket full of money,\nHe'll say, \"Oh, darling, tell me the truth, how much time I got?\"\nShe'll say, \"You got all the time in the world, honey.\"\nHandy-dandy, Handy-dandy.\n\nHe got that clear crystal fountain,\nHe got that soft, silky skin,\nHe got that fortress on the mountain\nWith no doors or windows, so no thieves can break in.\n\nHandy-dandy, sitting with a girl named Nancy in a garden feeling kind of lazy.\nHe say, \"Oh, you want a gun? I'll give you one.\" \nShe said, \"Boy, you talking crazy.\"\nHandy-dandy, just like sugar and candy,\nHandy-dandy, pour him another brandy.\n\nHandy-dandy, he got a basket of flowers and a bag full of sorrow,\nHe finishes his drink, he gets up from the table,\nHe said, \"Ok, boys, I'll see you tomorrow.\"\nHandy-dandy, handy-dandy, just like sugar and candy,\nHandy-dandy, just like sugar and candy,\nHandy-dandy, handy-dandy."}
{"name": "Cat's in the Well", "album": "Under the Red Sky", "album_year": "1990", "text": "Cat's in the well, the wolf is looking down,\nThe cat's in the well, the wolf is looking down,\nHe got his big, bushy tail dragging all over the ground.\n\nCat's in the well, the gentle lady is asleep,\nCat's in the well, gentle lady is asleep,\nShe ain't hearing a thing, silence is a-sticking her deep.\n\nCat's in the well and grief is showing its face,\nThe world's being slaughtered, it's such a bloody disgrace.\n\nCat's in the well, horse is going bumpety-bump,\nCat's in the well and the horse is going bumpety-bump,\nBack-alley Sally's doing the American jump.\n\nCat's in the well and papa is reading the news,\nHis hair is falling out and all of his daughters need shoes.\n\nThe cat's in the well and the barn is full of bull,\nThe cat's in the well and the barn is full of the bull,\nThe night is so long and the table is oh so full.\n\nCat's in the well and the servant is at the door,\nThe drinks are ready and the dogs are going to war.\n\nThe cat's in the well, the leaves are starting to fall,\nCat's in the well, leaves are starting to fall,\nGoodnight, my love, may the lord have mercy on us all."}
{"name": "Hard Times in New York Town", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Come, you ladies and you gentlemen, listen to my song,\nSing it to you right, but you might think it's wrong,\nJust a little glimpse of a story I'll tell\n'Bout an East Coast city that you all know well.\nIt's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nOld New York City is a friendly, old town,\nFrom Washington Heights to Harlem on down.\nThere's a-mighty many people in the middle and all around,\nThey'll kick you when you're up and knock you when you're down.\nIt's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nWhen the weak and the strong and the rich and the poor\nGather there together, ain't room for no more.\nCrowded up above and crowded down below,\nWhen someone disappears, you never even know.\nAnd it's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nIt's a mighty long ways from the Golden Gate\nTo Rockefeller Plaza and the Empire State.\nMr. Empire sits up as high as a bird\nAnd old Mr. Rockefeller never says a word.\nAnd it's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nWell, it's up in the morning trying to find a job of work,\nStand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.\nIf you got a lotta money, you can make yourself merry,\nIf you only got a nickel, it's the Staten Island Ferry.\nAnd it's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nMr. Hudson come a-sailing down the stream\nAnd old Minu--Mister--et paid for his dream.\nHe bought your city on a one-way track.\nIf I had my way, I'd sell it right back.\nIt's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town.\n\nI'll take all the smog in Ca-li-for-ni-a\nAnd every bit of dust in the Oklahoma plains\nAnd the dirt in the caves of the Rocky Mountain mines,\nIt's all much cleaner than the New York kind.\nIt's hard times, in the country, living down in New York town.\n\nSo, all you newsy people, spread the news around,\nYou can listen to my story, you can listen to my song,\nYou can step on my name, you can try and get me beat,\nWhen I leave New York, I'll be standing on my feet.\nIt's hard times, from the country, living down in New York town."}
{"name": "He Was a Friend of Mine", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "He was a friend of mine, he was a friend of mine,\nEvery time I think about him now, lord, I just can't keep from crying\n'Cause he was a friend of mine.\n\nHe died on the road, he died on the road.\nHe never had enough money to pay his room or board\nAnd he was a friend of mine.\n\nI stole away and cried, I stole away and cried\n'Cause I never had too much money and I never been quite satisfied\nAnd he was a friend of mine.\n\nHe never done no wrong, he never done no wrong,\nA thousand miles from home and he never harmed no one\nAnd he was a friend of mine.\n\nHe was a friend of mine, he was a friend of mine,\nEvery time I hear his name, lord, I just can't keep from crying\n'Cause he was a friend of mine."}
{"name": "Man on the Street", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, I'll sing you a song - it ain't very long -\nAbout an old man, he never done wrong.\nHow he died nobody can say,\nThey found him dead in the street one day.\n\nWell, the crowd gathered one fine morn\nAt the man whose clothes and shoes were torn.\nThere on the sidewalk he did lay,\nThey stopped and stared and they went their way.\n\nWell, the policeman come and he looked around.\n\"Get up, old man, or I'm taking you down.\"\nHe jabbed him once with his bully club,\nThe old man then rolled off the curb.\n\nWell, he jabbed him again and loudly said,\n\"Call the wagon, this man is dead.\"\nThe wagon come, they loaded him in,\nI never saw the man again.\n\nWell, I've sung you my song - it ain't very long -\nAbout an old man that never done wrong.\nHow he died nobody could say,\nThey found him dead in the street one day."}
{"name": "No More Auction Block", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "No more auction block for me, no more, no more,\nNo more auction block for me, many thousand gone.\n\nNo more driver's lash for me, no more, no more,\nNo more driver's lash for me, many thousand gone.\n\nNo more whip-lash for me, no more, no more,\nNo more pint of salt for me, many thousand gone.\n\nNo more auction block for me, no more, no more,\nNo more auction block for me, many thousand gone."}
{"name": "House Carpenter", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Here's a story 'bout a ghost come back from out in the sea, come to take his bride away from the house carpenter.\n\n\"Well met, well met, my own, true love.\"\n\"Well met, well met,\" cried she.\n\"I've just returned from the salt, salt sea\nAnd it's all for the love of thee.\"\n\n\"I could have married a king's daughter there,\nShe would have married me,\nBut I have forsaken my king's daughter there,\nIt's all for the love of thee.\"\n\n\"Well, if you could have married a king's daughter there,\nI'm sure you're the one to blame\nFor I am married to a house carpenter\nAnd I'm a-sure he's a fine, young man.\"\n\n\"Forsake, forsake your house carpenter\nAnd come away with me.\nI'll take you to where the green grass grows\nOn the shores of sunny Italy.\"\n\nSo up she picked her babies three\nAnd give them kisses, one, two, three,\nSaying, \"Take good care of your daddy while I'm gone\nAnd keep him good company.\"\n\nWell, they were sailing about two weeks -\nI'm sure it was not three -\nWhen the younger of the girls, she came on deck,\nSaying wants company.\n\n\"Well, are you weeping for your house and home\nOr are you weeping for your babe?\"\n\"Well, I'm not weeping for my house carpenter,\nI'm weeping for my babies three.\"\n\n\"Oh, what are those hills yonder, my love?\nThey look as white as snow.\"\n\"Those are the hills of heaven, my love,\nYou and I'll never know.\"\n\n\"What are those hills yonder, my love?\nThey look as dark as night.\"\n\"Those are the hills of hell-fire, my love,\nWhere you and I will unite.\"\n\nOh, twice around went the gallant ship -\nI'm sure it was not three -\nWhen the ship all of a sudden, it sprung a leak\nAnd it drifted to the bottom of the sea."}
{"name": "Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, I saw it advertised one day\nThat the Bear Mountain picnic was coming my way.\n\"Come along and take a trip,\nWe'll bring you up there on a ship.\nBring the wife and family,\nBring the whole kids.\" Yippee!\n\nWell, I run right down and bought a ticket\nTo this thing called the Bear Mountain Picnic.\nLittle did I realize\nI was in for a pleasant, funny surprise.\nHad nothing to do with picnic,\nDidn't come close to a mountain,\nI hate bears.\n\nTook the wife and kids down to the pier,\nThere were six thousand people there.\nEverybody had a ticket for the trip.\n\"Oh, well,\" I said, \"it's a pretty big ship.\nBesides, anyhow, the more the merrier.\"\n\nWell, we all got on, what do you think?\nThat big, old boat started to sink.\nMore people kept a-piling on,\nThat old ship was a-going down.\nFunny way to start a picnic.\n\nWell, I soon lost track of my kids and wife,\nSo many people I never saw in my life.\nThat old ship was sinking down in the water,\nThere were six thousand people trying to kill each other,\nDogs a-barking, cats a-screaming, women a-yelling,\nMen a-flying, fists a-flying, paper flying,\nCops a-coming, me a-running.\nMaybe we just better call off the picnic.\n\nI got shoved down, got pushed around,\nAll I remember was a moaning sound,\nDon't remember one thing more.\nAll I remember is waking up on the shore,\nMy arms and legs were broken,\nMy feet were splintered, and my head was cracked,\nI couldn't walk, couldn't talk, smell, feel,\nCouldn't see, I didn't know where I was, I was bald.\nQuite lucky to be alive, though!\n\nWell, feeling like I just climbed outta my casket,\nI grabbed back hold of my picnic basket,\nTook the wife and kids and started home,\nWishing I'd never got up that morning.\n\nNow, I don't care just a-what you do,\nIf you wanna have a picnic, that's up to you,\nBut don't tell me about it, I don't wanna hear it,\nYou see, I just lost all my picnic spirit.\nStay in my kitchen, have a [unintelligible], have a picnic in my bathroom.\n\nNow, it don't seem to me quite so funny\nWhat some people are gonna do for money.\nThere's a brand-new gimmick every day\nJust to take somebody's money away.\nI think we oughtta take some of these people,\nPut 'em on a boat, send 'em up to Bear Mountain for a picnic."}
{"name": "Let Me Die in My Footsteps", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I will not go down under the ground\n'Cause somebody tells me that death's coming 'round\nAnd I will not carry myself down to die,\nWhen I go to my grave, my head will be high.\nLet me die in my footsteps before I go down under the ground.\n\nThere's been rumors of war and wars that have been,\nThe meaning of the life has been lost in the wind,\nAnd some people thinking that the end is close by,\n'Stead of learning to live, they are learning to die.\nLet me die in my footsteps before I go down under the ground.\n\nI don't know if I'm smart, but I think I can see\nWhen someone is pulling the wool over me,\nAnd, if this war comes and death's all around,\nLet me die on this land 'fore I die underground.\nLet me die in my footsteps before I go down under the ground.\n\nThere's always been people that have to cause fear,\nThey've been talking about a war now for a-many long years.\nI have read all their statements and I've not said a word,\nBut, now, lord God, let my poor voice be heard.\nLet me die in my footsteps before I go down under the ground.\n\nLet me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood,\nLet the smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood,\nLet me sleep in your meadows with the green, grassy leaves,\nLet me walk down the highway with my brother in peace,\nLet me die in my footsteps before I go down under the ground,\n\nAnd go out in your country where the land meets the sun,\nSee the craters and the canyons and where the waterfalls run,\nNevada, New Mexico, Arizona, Idaho,\nLet every state in this union seep deep down in your soul\nAnd you'll die in your footsteps before you go down under the ground."}
{"name": "Rambling, Gambling Willie", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Come 'round, you roving gamblers, and a story I will tell\nAbout the greatest gambler, you all should know him well.\nHis name was Willie O'Conley and he gambled all his life,\nHe's had twenty-seven children, yet he's never had a wife.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nWell, he gambled in the White House and in the railroad yards,\nWherever there was people, there was Willie and his cards.\nHe had the reputation as the gamblingest man around,\nWives would keep their husbands home when Willie came to town.\nAnd it's ride, a-Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nSailing down the Mississippi to a town called New Orleans,\nThey're still talking about that card game on that Jackson Queen.\n\"I've come to win some money,\" Gambling Willie says.\nWhen the game finally ended up, the whole darn boat was his.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nUp in the Rocky Mountains in a town called Cripple Creek,\nThere was an all-night poker game, lasted about a week.\nNine hundred miners had laid their money down,\nWhen Willie finally left the room, he owned the whole darn town.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nBut Willie had a heart of gold and this I know is true,\nHe supported all his children and all their mothers too.\nHe wore no rings or fancy things like other gamblers wore,\nHe spread his money far and wide to help the sick and poor.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nWhen you played your cards with Willie, you never really knew\nWhether he was bluffing or whether he was true.\nHe won a fortune from a man who folded in his chair,\nThe man, he left a diamond flush, Willie didn't even have a pair.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nIt was late one evening during a poker game,\nA man lost all his money, said Willie was to blame.\nHe shot poor Willie through the head, which was a tragic fate,\nWillie's cards fell on the floor, they were aces backed with eights.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows.\n\nSo, all you rambling gamblers, wherever you might be,\nThe moral of the story is very plain to see:\nMake your money while you can before you have to stop\nFor, when you pull that dead man's hand, your gambling days are up.\nAnd it's ride, Willie, ride,\nRoll, Willie, roll,\nWherever you're a-gambling now nobody knows."}
{"name": "Talkin' Hava Negeilah Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Here's a foreign song I learned in Utah.\n\nHa-va-\nHava-na-\nHavana-gee-\nHavanagee-luh-\nHavanageeluh.\nOdeleyee-hoo-hoo-hoo."}
{"name": "Quit Your Low Down Ways", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, you can read out your Bible,\nYou can fall down on your knees\nAnd pray to the Lord, pretty mama,\nBut it ain't gonna do no good,\nYou're gonna need my help someday.\nWell, if you can't quit your sinning,\nPlease quit your low-down ways.\n\nYou can run down to the desert,\nYou can stick your head in the sand,\nYou can raise up your right hand,\nBut your good man ain't a-coming home, you better understand,\nYou're gonna need - you're gonna need my help someday,\nSomeday gonna need my help, someday.\nWell, if you can't quit your sinning,\nPlease quit your low-down ways.\n\nNow, you can run down to the White House,\nYou can gaze on the Capitol Dome,\nYou can knock on the President's gate, pretty mama,\nBut, you know, it's gonna be too late,\nYou're gonna need - you're gonna need my help someday, my help someday.\nWell, if you can't quit your sinning,\nPlease quit your low-down ways.\n\nAnd you can hitchhike on the highway,\nYou can stand all alone by the side of the road,\nTry to flag a ride back home, pretty mama,\nBut you ain't a-gonna ride in my car no more,\nYou're gonna need - you're gonna need my help someday, oh, yes, you.\nWell, if you can't quit your sinning,\nPlease quit your low-down ways.\n\nSo you can read out your hymn-book,\nYou can fall down on your knees\nAnd pray to the Lord, pretty mama,\nBut it ain't gonna do no good,\nYou're gonna need - you're gonna need my help someday, oh, wait and see.\nIf you can't quit your sinning,\nPlease quit your low-down ways."}
{"name": "Worried Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I got those worried blues,\nAnd I got those worried blues,\nI got those worried blues,\nI got those worried blues,\nLord, I'm a-going where I never been before.\n\nI'm going where the chilly winds don't blow,\nI'm a-going where the chilly winds don't blow,\nI'm a-going where the chilly winds don't blow,\nI'm a-going where the chilly winds don't blow,\nI'm a-going where the climate suits my clothes.\n\nHoney baby, don't leave me now,\nHoney baby, don't leave me now,\nOh, honey baby, don't leave me now,\nHoney baby, don't leave me now,\nI got trouble in my mind.\nListen to that cold whistle blow,\nLord, listen to that cold whistle blow,\nListen to that cold whistle blow,\nListen to that cold whistle blow,\nI'm going where I never been before.\n\nSo I got those worries blues,\nLord, I got the worried blues,\nI got the worried blues,\nAnd I got the worried blues,\nI'm a-going where I never been before."}
{"name": "Kingsport Town", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "The winter wind is a-blowing strong, my hands a-got no gloves,\nI wish to my soul that I could see the gal I'm a-thinking of.\n\nDon't you remember me, babe?  I remember you quite well,\nYou caused me to leave old Kingsport Town with a high sheriff on my trail.\n\nHigh sheriff on my trail, boys, high sheriff on my trail,\nAll because I'm falling for a curly-headed, dark-eyed gal.\n\nWho's a-gonna stroke your cold, black hair and sandy-colored skin?\nWho's a-gonna kiss your Memphis lips when I'm out in the wind,\nWhen I'm out in the wind, babe, when I'm out in the wind?\nWho's a-gonna kiss your Memphis mouth when I'm out in the wind?\n\nWho's a-gonna walk you side by side and tell you everything's alright?\nWho's a-gonna sing to you all day long and not just in the night?\nWho's a-gonna walk you side by side? Who's a-gonna be your man?\nWho's a-gonna look you straight in the eye and hold your bad-luck hand?\n\nHold your bad-luck hand, babe, hold your bad-luck hand,\nWho's a-gonna hold your hard-luck hand and who's a-gonna be your man?\n\nThe winter wind is a-blowing strong, my hands a-got no gloves,\nI wish to my soul I could see the gal I'm a-thinking of."}
{"name": "Walkin' Down the Line", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "A-lord, I'm walking down the line, walking down the line,\nAnd I'm walking down the line - my feet'll be flying - to tell about my troubled mind.\n\nI got a heavy-headed gal, I got a heavy-headed gal,\nI got a heavy-headed gal, she ain't a-feeling well,\nWhen she's better only time'll tell.\nLord, I'm walking down the line, walking down the line,\nAnd I'm walking down the line - my feet'll be flying - to tell about my troubled mind.\n\nMy money comes and goes, my money comes and goes,\nMy money comes and goes and rolls and throws and rolls and flows\nThrough the holes in the pockets in my clothes.\nLord, I'm walking down the line, walking down the line,\nLord, I'm walking down the line - my feet'll be flying - to tell about my troubled mind.\n\nI see the morning light, I see the morning light,\nWell, it's not because I'm an early riser,\nI didn't go to sleep last night.\nLord, I'm walking down the line, walking down the line,\nLord, I'm walking down the line - my feet'll be flying - to tell about my troubled mind.\n\nI got my walking shoes, I got my walking shoes,\nI got my walking shoes and I ain't a-gonna lose,\nWhat else can a poor boy do?\nLord, I'm walking down the line, lord, I'm walking down the line,\nLord, I'm walking down the line - my feet'll be a-flying - to tell about my troubled mind."}
{"name": "Walls of Red Wing", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Oh, the age of the inmates I remember quite freely,\nNo younger than twelve, no older than seventeen,\nThrown in like bandits and cast off like criminals,\nAll inside the walls on the grounds of Red Wing.\n\nFrom the dirty, old mess hall you march to the brick wall,\nToo weary to talk and too tired to sing,\nAnd it's all afternoon you remember your hometown,\nAll inside the walls, the walls of Red Wing.\n\nOh, the gates are cast iron and the walls are barbed wire,\nStay far from the fence with the 'lectricity sting,\nAnd it's keep down your head and stay in your number,\nAll inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing.\n\nOh, it's fare-thee-well to the deep, hollow dungeon,\nFarewell to the boardwalk that takes you to the screen,\nFarewell to the minutes they threaten you with it,\nAll inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing.\n\nIt's many a guard that stands around smiling,\nHolding his club like he was a king,\nHoping to get you behind a wood piling,\nAll inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing.\n\nThe night aimed shadows through the crossbar windows\nAnd the wind punched hard to make the wall-siding sing,\nIt's many a night I pretended to be a-sleeping,\nAll inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing.\n\nAs the rain rattled heavy on the bunk-house shingles\nAnd the sounds of the night, they made my ears ring\nTill the keys of the guards clicked the tune of the morning,\nAll inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing.\n\nOh, some of us will wind up in St. Cloud Prison,\nAnd some of us'll end up to be lawyers and things,\nAnd some of us'll stand to meet you on your crossroads\nFrom inside the grounds of the walls of Red Wing."}
{"name": "Paths of Victory", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "The trail is dark and dusty, the road, it's kind of rough,\nBut the good road is a-waiting and, boys, it ain't far off.\n\nTrails of troubles, roads of battles,\nPaths of victory we shall walk.\n\nI walked out to the valley, I turned my head up high,\nI seen that silver lining that was hanging in the sky.\n\nTrails of troubles, toads of battles,\nPaths of victory we shall walk.\n\nThe evening dust was rolling, I's a-walking down the track,\nThere was a one-way wind a-blowing, it was blowing at my back.\n\nTrails of troubles, roads of battles,\nPaths of victory we shall walk.\n\nThe gravel road is bumpy, it's a hard, old road to ride,\nBut the clear road's of yonder with the cinders on the side.\n\nTrails of troubles, roads of battles,\nPaths of victory we shall walk.\n\nThe morning train was moving, the humming of its wheels\nTold me of a new day coming across the field.\n\nTrails of troubles, roads of battles,\nPaths of victory we shall walk."}
{"name": "Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "This is called \"Talking John Birch Blues\" and there ain't nothing wrong with this song!\n\nWell, I was feeling sad and kinda blue,\nI didn't know what I was a-gonna do.\nThe Communists was a-coming around,\nThey was in the air, they was on the ground,\nThey was all over!\n\nSo I run down most hurriedly\nAnd joined the John Birch Society,\nGot me a secret membership card,\nWent back home to the yard,\nStarting look on the sidewalk,\nUnder the hedges.\n\nWell, I got up in the morning, looked under my bed,\nI was looking every place for them god-darned Reds,\nLooked behind the sink and under the floor,\nLooked in the glove compartment of my car.\nI couldn't find any.\n\nLooked behind the clothes, behind the chair,\nLooking for them Reds everywhere.\nLooked up my chimney-hole,\nEven deep down inside my toilet bowl.\nThey got away!\n\nI heard some footsteps by the front porch door,\nSo I grabbed my shotgun from the floor,\nSnuck around the house with a huff and a hiss,\nSaying, \"Hands up, you Communists!\"\nIt was the mailman!\nHe punched me out!\n\nWell, I's sitting home alone and I started to sweat,\nI figured they was in my TV set!\nI peeked behind the picture frame,\nGot a shock from my feet that hit my brain.\nThem Reds did it!\nHootenanny television!\n\nWell, I quit my job so I could work alone,\nGot a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes,\nFollowed some clues from my detective bag,\nI discovered red stripes in the American flag!\nBetty Ross!\n\nNow, Eisenhower, he's a Russian spy,\nLincoln and Jefferson and that Roosevelt guy.\nTo my knowledge there's just one man\nThat's really and truly an American.\nThat's George Lincoln Rockwell.\nI know for a fact he hates Commies 'cause he picketed the movie Exodus.\n\nWell, I finally started thinking straight\nWhen I run outta things to investigate.\nCouldn't imagine nothing else,\nSo now I'm home investigating myself!\nHope I don't find out too much!\nGood God!"}
{"name": "Who Killed Davey Moore?", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Who killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not I,\" said the referee,\n\"Don't point your finger at me.\nI coulda stopped it in the eighth\nAnd maybe kept him from his fate,\nBut the crowd woulda booed, I'm sure,\nAt not getting their money's worth.\nIt's too bad he had to go,\nBut there was a pressure on me too, you know.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nYou can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not us,\" said the angry crowd,\nWhose screams filled the arena loud,\n\"It's too bad he had to die that night,\nWe just like to see a good, old-fashioned fight.\nWe didn't mean for him to meet his death,\nWe just wanted to see some sweat -\nThere ain't nothing wrong in that.\nIt wasn't us that made him fall,\nYou can't blame us at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" said his manager,\nPuffing on a big cigar,\n\"It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,\nI always thought that he was well.\nIt's too bad for his wife and kids he's dead,\nBut, if he was sick, he shoulda said.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nYou can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" said the gambling man\nWith his ticket stub still in his hand,\n\"It wasn't me that knocked him down,\nMy hands didn't touch him none,\nI didn't commit no ugly sin -\nAnyway, I put money on him to win.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nYou can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" said the boxing writer,\nWho pounds the print in his old typewriter,\nSaying, \"Boxing is here to stay,\nThere's just as much foot in--danger in a football game,\" \nSaying, \"Fist-fighting is here to stay,\nIt's just the old American way.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nYou can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" said the man whose fists\nLaid him low in a cloud of mist,\nWho came here from Cuba's door\nWhere boxing ain't allowed no more,\n\"I hit him, I hit him, yes, it's true,\nBut that's what I am paid to do.\nDon't say 'murder', don't say 'kill',\nIt was destiny, it was God's will.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?"}
{"name": "Only a Hobo", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "As I was out walking on the corner one day,\nI spied an old hobo, in the doorway he lay.\nHis face was all grounded in the cold sidewalk floor\nAnd I guess he'd been there for the whole night or more.\n\nOnly a hobo, but one more is gone,\nLeaving nobody to sing his sad song,\nLeaving nobody to carry him home,\nHe was only a hobo, but one more is gone.\n\nA blanket of newspaper covered his head,\nAs the step was his pillow, the street was his bed.\nOne look at his face showed the hard road he'd come\nAnd a fistful of coins showed the money he bummed.\n\nHe was only a hobo, but one more is gone,\nLeaving nobody to sing his sad song,\nLeaving nobody to carry him home,\nHe was only a hobo, but one more is gone.\n\nDoes it take much of a man to see his whole life go down,\nTo look up in the world from a hole in the ground,\nTo wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame,\nTo lie in the gutter and die with no name?\n\nHe was only a hobo, but one more is gone,\nLeaving nobody to sing his sad song,\nLeaving nobody to carry him home,\nHe was only a hobo, but one more is gone."}
{"name": "Moonshiner", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I been a moonshiner for seventeen long years,\nI've spent all my money on whiskey and beer.\nI'll go to some hollow and sit at my still\nAnd, if whiskey don't kill me, then, I don't know what will.\n\nI'll go to some bar-room and drink with my friends,\nWhere the women can't follow and see what I spend.\nGod bless them pretty women, I wish they was mine,\nTheir breath is as sweet as the dew on the vine.\n\nLet me eat when I'm hungry, let me drink when I'm dry,\nA dollar when I'm hard up, religion when I die.\nThe whole world's a bottle and life's but a dram:\nWhen the bottle gets empty, it sure ain't worth a damn."}
{"name": "When the Ship Comes In", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Oh, the time will come up when the winds will stop\nAnd the breeze will cease to be breathing,\nLike the stillness in the wind before the hurricane begins,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the sea will split and the ships will hit\nAnd the shoreline sands will be shaking\nAnd the tide will sound and the waves will pound\nAnd the morning will be breaking.\n\nOh, the fishes will laugh as they swim out of the path\nAnd the seagulls, they'll be a-smiling\nAnd the rocks on the sand will proudly stand,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the words that are used for to get the ship confused\nWill not be understood as they're spoken\nFor the chains of the sea will have busted in the night\nAnd be buried on the bottom of the ocean.\n\nA song will lift as the mainsail shifts\nAnd the boat drifts onto the shoreline\nAnd the sun will respect every face on the deck,\nThe hour that the ship comes in.\n\nAnd the sands will roll out a carpet of gold\nFor your weary toes to be a-touching\nAnd the ship's wise men will remind you once again\nThat the whole, wide world is watching.\n\nOh, the foes will rise with the sleep still in their eyes\nAnd they'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreaming,\nBut they'll pinch themselves and squeal and they'll know that it's for real,\nThe hour when the ship comes in.\n\nAnd they'll raise their hands, saying, \"We'll meet all your demands\",\nBut we'll shout from the bow, \"Your days are numbered!\"\nAnd like Pharaoh's tribe they'll be drownded in the tide\nAnd like Goliath they'll be conquered."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone,\nAnd, if breath to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\n'Cause the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled\n'Cause the battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road's rapidly aging.\nPlease get outta the new one if you can't lend your hand\n'Cause the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slowest now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\n'Cause the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "There's this book coming out and they asked me to write, uh, something about Woody, uh, sort of like, \"What does Woody Guthrie mean to you in 25 words?\" And, uh, I couldn't do it, I wrote out five pages. And, uh, I have it here-it's, uh-have it here by accident, actually. Ha, but, but, uh, I'd-I'd like to say this out loud, so, uh, if you could sorta roll along with this thing here, this is called \"Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie\".\n\nUm, when your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb,\nWhen you think you're too old, too young, too smart, or too dumb,\nWhen you're lagging behind and losing your pace\nIn the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race,\nNo matter what you're doing, if you start giving up,\nIf the wine don't come to the top of your cup,\nIf the wind got you sideways with one hand holding on\nAnd the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone,\nAnd your train-engine fire needs a new spark to catch it,\nAnd the wood's easy finding but you're lazy to fetch it,\nAnd your sidewalk starts curling and the street gets too long,\nAnd you start walking backwards though you know that it's wrong,\nAnd lonesome comes up as down goes the day,\nAnd tomorrow's morning seems so far away,\nAnd you feel the reins from your pony are slipping,\nAnd your rope is a-sliding 'cause your hands are dripping,\nAnd your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys\nTurn to broken-down slums and trash-can alleys,\nAnd your sky cries water and your drain-pipe's a-pouring,\nAnd the lightning's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashing,\nAnd the windows are rattling and breaking, your rooftops're shaking,\nAnd your whole world's a-slamming and banging,\nAnd your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm,\nAnd to yourself you sometimes say,\n\"I never knew it was gonna be this way.\nWhy didn't they tell me the day I was born?\"\nAnd you start getting chills and you're jumping from sweat,\nAnd you're looking for something you ain't quite found yet,\nAnd you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air,\nAnd the whole world's watching with the \"window-peek\" stare,\nAnd your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying,\nAnd your heart feels sick like fish when they're frying,\nAnd your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet -\nBut you need it badly and it lays on the street,\nAnd your bell's banging loudly but you can't hear its beat,\nAnd you think your ears mighta been hurt\nOr your eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blinding dirt,\nAnd you figured you failed in yesterday's rush\nWhen you were faked out and fooled while facing a four flush\nAnd all the time you're holding the three queens,\nIt's making you mad, it's making you mean,\nLike in the middle of Life magazine,\nBouncing around a pinball machine,\nAnd there's something on your mind that you wanna be saying,\nThat somebody someplace oughtta be hearing,\nBut it's trapped on your tongue and sealed in your head\nAnd it bothers you badly when you're laying in bed,\nAnd, no matter how you try, you just can't say it,\nAnd you're scared to your soul you just might forget it,\nAnd your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head,\nAnd your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead,\nAnd the lion's mouth opens and you're staring at his teeth,\nAnd his jaws start closing with you underneath,\nAnd you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind,\nAnd you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign,\nYou say to yourself, \"Just what am I doing\nOn this road I'm walking, on this trail I'm turning,\nOn this curve I'm hanging, on this pathway I'm strolling,\nIn this space I'm taking, in this air I'm inhaling?\nAm I mixed up too much? Am I mixed up too hard?\nWhy am I walking? Where am I running?\nWhat am I saying? What am I knowing\nOn this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm flailing,\nOn this mandolin I'm strumming, in this song I'm singing,\nIn the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking,\nIn the words that I'm writing, in this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking?\nWho am I helping? What am I breaking?\nWhat am I giving? What am I taking?\"\nBut you try with your whole soul,\nBest never to think these thoughts and never to let them kinda thoughts gain ground,\nOr make your heart pound, but, then again, you know when they're around,\nJust waiting for a chance to slip and drop down\n'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night times come creeping\nAnd you fear they might catch you sleeping,\nAnd you jump from your bed from the last chapter of dreaming,\nAnd you can't-you remember for the best of your thinking\nIf that was you in the dream that was screaming,\nAnd you know that it's something special you're needing,\nYou know there's no drug that'll do for the healing,\nAnd no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding,\nNeed something special-need something special, alright,\nYou need a fast-flying train on a tornado track,\nTo shoot you someplace and shoot you back,\nYou need a cyclone wind on a steam engine howler\nThat's been banging and booming and blowing forever,\nThat knows your troubles a hundred times over,\nYou need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race,\nThat won't laugh at your looks, your voice, or your face,\nAnd, by any number of bets in the book,\nWill be rolling long after the bubble-gum craze,\nYou need something to open up a new door,\nTo show you something you seen before\nBut overlooked a hundred times or more,\nYou need something to open your eyes,\nYou need something to make it known\nThat it's you and no one else that owns\nThat spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting,\nThat the world ain't got you beat, it ain't got you licked,\nIt can't get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked,\nYou need something special, alright, you need something special to give you hope,\nBut hope's just a word that maybe you said and maybe you heard\nOn some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve,\nBut that's what you need, man, and you need it bad,\nAnd your trouble is you know it too good\n'Cause you look and you start getting the chills,\n'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill,\nAnd it ain't on Macy's window-sill,\nAnd it ain't on a real rich kid's road-map,\nAnd it ain't made in no fat kid's fraternity house,\nAnd it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ,\nAnd it ain't on that dim-lit stage\nWith that half-wit comedian on it,\nRanting and raving and taking your money and you thinks it's funny,\nNo, you can't find it neither in no night-club, no yacht club,\nAnd it ain't in the seats of a supper club,\nAnd, sure as hell, you're bound to tell\nThat, no matter how hard you rub,\nYou just ain't a-gonna find it on your ticket stub,\nNo, it ain't in the rumors people're telling you,\nAnd ain't in the pimple lotion people are selling you,\nIt ain't in the cardboard-box house,\nOr down any movie star's blouse,\nAnd you can't find it on the golf course,\nAnd Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus,\nAnd it ain't in the cream-puff hairdo or cotton-candy clothes,\nAin't in the dime-store dummies and bubble-gum goons,\nAnd ain't in the marshmallow noises or the chocolate-cake voices\nThat come knocking and tapping in Christmas wrapping,\nSaying, \"Ain't I pretty?\" and, \"Ain't I cute? Look at my skin,\nLook at my skin shine, look at my skin glow,\nLook at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry,\"\nWhen you can't even sense has it got any insides?\nThese people so pretty in their ribbons and bows,\nNo, you'll not now or no other day\nFind it on the doorsteps made of papier mache,\nAnd inside it with the people made of molasses\nThat every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses,\nAnd it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies,\nWho'd turn you in for a tenth of a penny,\nWho breathe and burp and bend and crack,\nAnd, before you can count from one to ten, do it all over again,\nBut this time behind your back, my friend,\nThe ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl,\nAnd play games with each other in their sand-box world,\nAnd you can't find it either in the no-talent fools\nThat run around gallant, make all rules for the ones that got talent,\nAnd ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do\nAnd think they're fooling you,\nThe ones that jump on the wagon\nJust for a while 'cause they know it's in style\nTo get their kicks, get out of it quick,\nAnd make all kinds of money and chicks,\nAnd you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat,\nSaying, \"Christ, do I gotta be like that?\nAin't there no one here that knows where I'm at?\nAin't there no one here that knows how I feel?\nGood God Almighty, that stuff ain't real.\"\nNo, but that ain't your game, it ain't your race,\nCan't hear your name, you can't see your face,\nYou gotta look some other place,\nAnd where do you look for this hope that you're seeking,\nWhere do you look for this lamp that's a-burning,\nWhere do you look for this oil-well gushing,\nWhere do you look for this candle that's glowing,\nWhere do you look for this hope that you know is there and out there somewhere?\nAnd your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads,\nYour eyes can only look through two kinds of windows,\nYour nose can only smell two kinds of hallways,\nYou can touch and twist and turn two kinds of doorknobs,\nYou can either go to the church of your choice,\nOr you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital,\nYou find God in the church of your choice,\nYou find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital\nAnd, though it's only my opinion - I may be right or wrong,\nYou'll find them both in Grand Canyon, sundown."}
{"name": "Seven Curses", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Old Reilly stole a stallion,\nBut they caught him and they brought him back\nAnd they laid him down in the jail-house ground\nWith an iron chain around his neck.\n\nWhen Reilly's daughter got a message\nThat her father was going to hang,\nShe rode by night and came by morning\nWith gold and silver in her hand.\n\nWhen the judge saw Reilly's daughter,\nHis old eyes deepened in his head,\nSaying, \"Gold will never free your father,\nThe price, my dear, is you instead.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm as good as dead!\" cried Reilly.\n\"It's only you that he does crave\nAnd my skin will surely crawl if he touches you at all,\nGet on your horse and ride away.\"\n\n\"Oh, father, you will surely die\nIf I don't take the chance to try\nAnd pay the price and not take your advice,\nFor that reason I will have to stay.\"\n\nThe gallows' shadows shook the evening,\nIn the night a hound dog bayed,\nIn the night the grounds was groaning,\nIn the night the price was paid.\n\nThe next morning she had awoken\nTo find that the judge had never spoken.\nShe saw that hanging branch a-bending,\nShe saw her father's body broken.\n\nThese be seven curses on a judge so cruel,\nThat one doctor cannot save him,\nThat two healers cannot heal him,\nAnd that three eyes cannot see him,\n\nThat four ears cannot hear him,\nThat five walls cannot hide him,\nThat six diggers cannot bury him,\nAnd that seven deaths shall never kill him."}
{"name": "Eternal Circle", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I sung the song slowly as she stood in the shadows,\nShe stepped to the light as my silver strings spun.\nShe called with her eyes to the tune I's a-playing,\nBut the song, it was long and I'd only begun.\n\nThrough a bullet of light her face was reflecting\nThe fast, fading words that rolled from my tongue.\nWith a long-distance look her eyes was on fire,\nBut the song, it was long and there was more to be sung.\n\nMy eyes danced a circle across her clear outline,\nWith her head tilted sideways she called me again.\nAs the tune drifted out, she breathed hard through the echo,\nBut the song, it was long and it was far to the end.\n\nI glanced at my guitar and played it, pretending\nThat of all the eyes out there I could see none,\nAs her thoughts pounded hard like the pierce of an arrow,\nBut the song, it was long and it had to get done.\n\nAs the tune finally folded, I laid down the guitar\nAnd looked for the girl who'd stared for so long,\nBut her shadow was missing for all of my searching,\nSo I picked up my guitar and began the next song."}
{"name": "Mama, You Been on My Mind", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Perhaps it's the color of the sun cut flat\nAnd covering the crossroads I'm standing at\nOr maybe it's the weather or something like that,\nBut, mama, you been on my mind.\n\nI don't mean trouble, please don't put me down or get upset,\nI am not pleading or saying \"I can't forget you\",\nI do not pace the floor bowed down and bent, but yet,\nMama, you been on my mind.\n\nEven though my eyes are hazy and my thoughts, they might be narrow,\nWhere you been don't bother me or bring me down with sorrow,\nI don't mind who you'll be waking with tomorrow,\nMama, you're just on my mind.\n\nI'm not asking you to say words like \"yes\" or \"no\",\nPlease understand me, I have no place I'm calling you to go,\nI'm just whispering to myself, so I can't pretend that I don't know,\nMama, you are on my mind.\n\nWhen you wake up in the morning, baby, look inside your mirror,\nYou know I won't be next to you, you know I won't be near,\nI'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear\nAs someone who has had you on his mind."}
{"name": "Farewell, Angelina", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Farewell, Angelina, the bells of the crown\nAre being stolen by bandits, I must follow the sound.\nThe triangle tingles, the music plays slow,\nBut farewell, Angelina, the night is on fire and I must go.\n\nThere is no use in talking and there's no need for blame,\nThere is nothing to prove, everything still is the same.\nThe table stands empty by the edge of the stream,\nBut farewell, Angelina, the sky's changing colors and I must leave.\n\nThe jacks and the queens, they forsake the courtyard,\nFifty-two gypsies now file past the guard\nIn the space where the deuce and the ace once ran wild,\nFarewell, Angelina, the sky is folding, I'll see you after a while.\n\nSee the cross-eyed pirates sit perched in the sun,\nShooting tin cans with a sawed-off shotgun,\nAnd the cockerels and the neighbors clap and cheer with each blast,\nBut farewell, Angelina, the sky, it is trembling and I must leave fast.\n\nKing Kong, little elves in the rooftops, they dance\nValentino-type tangos while the heroes clean hands.\nShut the eyes of the dead not to embarrass anyone,\nFarewell, Angelina, the sky's flooding over and I must be gone.\n\nThe camouflage parrot, he flutters from fear\nWhen something he doesn't know about suddenly appears.\nWhat cannot be imitated perfect must die,\nFarewell, Angelina, the sky's flooding over and I must go where it is dry.\n\nMachine guns are roaring, puppets heave rocks\nAt misunderstood visions and at the faces of clocks.\nCall me any name you like, I will never deny it,\nBut farewell, Angelina, the sky is erupting and I must go where it is quiet."}
{"name": "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Johnny's in the basement\nMixing up the medicine,\nI'm on the pavement\nLooking 'bout the government,\nThe man in the trench-coat,\nBadge out, laid off,\nSays he's got a bad bill,\nWants to get it paid off.\nLook out, kid,\nIt's something you did\nGod knows when,\nBut you're doing it again,\nYou better duck down the alleyway,\nLooking for a new friend.\nMan in the coon-skin cap\nIn the pigpen\nWants eleven dollar bills\nAnd you only got ten.\n\nMaggie comes fleet-foot,\nFace full of black soot,\nTalking that the heat put\nPlants in the bed, but\nThe phone's tapped anyway,\nMaggie says that many say\nThey must bust in early May,\nOrders from the D.A.\nLook out, kid,\nIt don't matter what you did,\nDon't walk on your tip-toes,\nDon't tie no bows,\nBetter stay away from those\nThat carry 'round a fire-hose,\nKeep a clean nose,\nBe careful of the clean clothes,\nYou don't need a weatherman\nTo know which way the wind blows.\n\nWell, get sick, get well,\nHang around the ink-well,\nRing bar, hard to tell\nIf anything is gonna sell,\nTry hard, get barred,\nGet back, write Braille,\nGet jailed, jump bail,\nJoin the army if you fail.\nLook out, kid,\nYou're gonna get hit\nBy users, cheaters,\nSix-time losers\nHanging 'round the theaters,\nA girl by the whirlpool\nIs looking for a new fool,\nDon't follow leaders\nAnd watch the parking meters.\n\nGet born, keep warm,\nShort pants, romance, learn to dance,\nGet dressed, get blessed,\nTry to be a success,\nPlease her, please him, buy gifts,\nDon't steal, don't lift,\nTwenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.\nLook out, kid,\nThey keep it all hid,\nBetter jump down the manhole,\nLight yourself a candle,\nDon't wear sandals,\nTry to avoid the scandals.\nIf you don't wanna be a bum,\nYou better not chew gum\nAnd the pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles."}
{"name": "If You Gotta Go, Go Now (Or Else You Got to Stay All Night)", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Listen to me, baby, there's something you must see,\nI wanna be with you, girl, if you wanna be with me,\nBut, if you gotta go, it's alright,\nBut, if you got to go, go now or else you got to stay all night.\n\nIt ain't that I'm questioning you to take part in any kinda quiz,\nIt's just that I haven't got no watch and you keep asking me what time it is,\nSo, if you gotta go, it's alright,\nBut, if you gotta go, go now or else you gotta stay all night.\n\nI am just a poor boy, baby, trying to connect,\nBut I certainly don't want you thinking that I haven't got any respect,\nSo, if you got to go, it's alright,\nBut, if you gotta go, go now or else you got to stay all night.\n\nIt ain't that I'm wanting anything you never gave before,\nIt's just that I'll be sleeping soon and it'll be too dark for you to find the door,\nSo, if you got to go, it's alright,\nBut, if you got to go, go now or else you got to stay all night."}
{"name": "Sitting on a Barbed Wire Fence", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I paid fifteen million dollars, twelve hundred and seventy-two cents,\nI paid one thousand two hundred twenty-seven dollars and fifty-five cents,\nSee my bulldog bite a rabbit and my hound dog is sitting on a barbed-wire fence,\nAlright!\n\nWell, my temperature rises and my feet can't walk so hot,\nYes, my temperature rises and my feet can't walk so hot.\nWell, this Arabian doctor comes in, gives me a shot,\nBut wouldn't tell me what it was that I got.\n\nWell, this woman I've got, she's killing me alive,\nYes, this woman I've got, she's killing me alive.\nShe's making me into an old man and, man, I'm not even twenty-five!\n\nOf course, you're gonna think this song is a riff,\nI know you're gonna think this song is just a riff\nUnless you been inside a tunnel and fell down sixty-nine, seventy feet over a barbed-wire fence,\nAlright!"}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nYou threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they're all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh-make fun about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to scrounge your next meal.\nAnd how does it feel?\nA-how does it feel\nTo be out on your own,\nSo unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nMy voice is gone, man. You wanna try it again?"}
{"name": "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, I ride on a mail-train, baby, can't buy no thrill,\nYes, I've been up all night, baby, leaning on the windowsill.\nYeah, but if I die on top of the hill\nAnd if I don't make it, you know my baby will.\n\nDon't the moon look good, mama, shining down through the trees?\nDon't the ghost-child look good, baby, sitting on this madman's knees?\nDon't the sun look good going down over the sea?\nDon't my gal look fine when she's coming after me?\n\nAlright!\n\nWell, I just been to the baggage car where the engineer's been tossed,\nI stamped out forty compasses, sure don't know what they cost.\nWell, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss.\nI can't help it much if this train gets lost.\nAlright!"}
{"name": "I'll Keep It with Mine", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Everybody will help you discover what you set out to find,\nBut, if I can save you any time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine.\n\nWell, our train leaves at a-half past ten,\nBut it will be back here tomorrow the same old time again.\nThe conductor, he's weary, he's still stuck on the line,\nBut, if I can save you any time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine.\n\nI can't help it if you might think that it's odd\nIf I say I'm loving you not for you're-what you are but what you're not.\nEverybody will help you discover what you set out to find,\nBut, if I will save you the time,\nCome on, give it to me, I'll keep it with mine."}
{"name": "She's Your Lover Now", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Your pawnbroker roared and also so did the landlord.\nThe scene is so crazy, wasn't it?\nBoth were so glad to watch me destroy what I had,\nPain sure brings out the best in people, doesn't it?\nWhy didn't you just leave me if you didn't want to stay?\nWhy'd you have to treat me so bad? Did it have to be that way?\nNow you stand here expecting me to remember something you forgot to say.\nYes, and you, I see you're still with her. Well,\nThat's fine, but she's coming on so strange, can't you tell?\nSomebody better explain, she's got her iron chain,\nI'd do it, but I-I just can't remember how.\nYou talk to her, she's your lover now.\n\nOh, I already assumed that we're in the felony room,\nBut I ain't the judge, you don't have to be nice to me.\nWill you please tell that to your friend in the cowboy hat?\nYou know, he keeps on saying everything twice to me.\nYou know I was straight with you, you know I never tried to change you in any way,\nYou know, if you didn't wanna be with me, that you didn't have to stay.\nNow you stand here saying you forgive and forget. Honey, what can I say?\nYes, and you, you just sit around and ask for ashtrays. Can't you reach?\nI see you kiss her on the cheek every time she gives a speech.\nWith her picture books of the pyramid and her postcards of Billy the Kid,\nMust everybody bow?\nYou better talk to her about it, you're her lover now.\n\nOh, everybody that cares is going up the castle-stairs,\nBut I'm not up in the castle, a-honey.\nIt's true, I just can't recall San Francisco at all,\nI can't even remember El Paso, a-honey.\nNever had to be faithful, I never wanted you to grieve.\nWhy was it so hard for you, if you didn't wanna be with me, just to leave?\nNow you stand here, why are your fingers going up my sleeve?\nAnd you, just what do you do anyway? Ain't there nothing you can say?\nShe'll be standing on the bar soon with a fish-head and a harpoon\nAnd a fake beard plastered on her brow.\nYou'd better do something quick, she's your lover now.\n\nOh, why must I fall into the sadness? Do I look like Charles Atlas?\nDo you think I still got what you still got, baby?\nMy voice is really warm, it's just that it ain't got no form,\nBut it's just like a dead man's last pistol shot, baby.\nOh, your mouth used to be so naked, your eyes used to be blue,\nYour hurts used to be so nameless and your tears used to be so few.\nNow your mouth cries wolf while your--\nWhat?"}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "They say everything can be replaced,\nYet every distance is not near,\nSo I remember every face\nOf every man who put me here.\nI see my light come shining from the west unto the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nThey say every man needs protection,\nThey say every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSome place so high above this wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west unto the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nNow yonder stand with me in this lonely crowd\nA man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear his voice shouting so loud,\nCrying out that he was framed.\nI see my light come shining from the west unto the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "Santa-Fe", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe,\nMy woman needs it every day,\nShe promised this a-lad she'd stay,\nShe rolling up a lots of bread to toss away.\nShe's in Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe,\nNow she's opened up a lefty home,\nShe's proud, but she needs to roam,\nShe's opened up a happy home,\nShe [incomprehensible]\nAnd the Santa Fe.\n\nSanta Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe,\nSince I'm'a never cease to roam,\nI'm never, never far from home,\nI'm'a ever, ever, ever long to sail away.\nPlease don't feel bad, no, no, no, no, don't, don't, don't feel bad,\nShe's the worst you could ever have,\nSince the madman, a-he's so glad,\nShe's over 'bove the [incomprehensible] pad,\nShe's never, never feeled so bad I went away.\n\nSanta Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe,\nMy own heart's in the [incomprehensible],\nI won't have my nature way,\nAnd I'm leaving every day to run away\nFrom Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe.\nMy woman's never sitting at home,\nShe's packing up a lease unknown,\nShe's crying like an evil stone,\nShe leave by the other and roam,\nBut she ain't gonna find the road\nAnd that's gonna set her on her own every day."}
{"name": "If Not for You", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Ready, George?\n\nIf not for you,\nBabe, I couldn't find the door,\nCouldn't even see the floor,\nI'd be sad and blue,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nThe night would see me wide awake,\nThe day would surely have to break,\nBut it would not be new,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather too.\nWithout your love, I'd be nowhere at all,\nI'd be lost if not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nThe winter would hold no spring,\nI couldn't hear the robin sing,\nI just wouldn't have a clue,\nIf not for you."}
{"name": "Wallflower", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Wallflower, wallflower, won't you dance with me?\nI'm sad and lonely too.\nWallflower, wallflower, won't you dance with me?\nI'm falling in love with you.\n\nJust like you I'm wondering what I'm doing a-here,\nJust like you I'm wondering what's going on.\n\nWallflower, wallflower, won't you dance with me?\nThe night will soon be gone.\n\nI have seen you standing in the smoky haze\nAnd I know that you're gon' be mine one of these days,\nMine alone.\n\nWallflower, wallflower, take a chance on me,\nPlease let me ride you home."}
{"name": "Nobody 'Cept You", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Nothing 'round here to me that's sacred, 'cept you, yeah, you,\nThere's nothing 'round here to me that matters, 'cept you, yeah, you.\nYou're the one that reaches me, you're the one that I admire,\nEvery time we meet together, I feel like I'm on fire,\nNothing matters to me and there's nothing I desire, 'cept you, yeah, you.\n\nNothing 'round here I care to try for, 'cept you, yeah, you,\nGot nothing here to live or die for, except you, yeah, you.\nThere's a hymn I used to hear in the churches all the time,\nMake me feel so good inside, so peaceful, so sublime.\nNow there's nothing that reminds me of that old, familiar chime, except you, yeah, you.\n\nUsed to run in the cemetery, dance and run and sing when I was a child\nAnd it never seemed strange.\nNow I just pass mournfully by that place where bones of life are piled,\nI know something is changed.\nI'm a stranger here and no one sees me, except you, yeah, you,\nNothing anymore seems to please me, except you, yeah, you,\nNothing hypnotizes me or holds me in a spell,\nEverything runs by me just like water from a well,\nEverybody wants my attention, everybody got something to sell, except you, yeah, you,\nI'm in love with you!"}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, he was lying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said their lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd he was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on his shoes,\nHeading out for the old East Coast - Lord knows, he's paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when they first met, soon to be divorced,\nHe helped her out of a jam, I guess, but he used a little too much force.\nAnd they drove that car as far as they could, abandoned it out west,\nAnd split up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nAnd she turned around to look at him as he was a-walking away,\nShe said, \"This can't be the end, we'll meet on another day on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nHe had a job in the old North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut he never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nWhen he drifted down to LA where he'd reckoned to try his luck,\nWorking for a while in an airplane plant loading cargo onto a truck,\nBut all the while he was alone, the past was close behind,\nHe seen a lotta women, but she never escaped his mind and he just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place, I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, as the crowd thinned out, I's about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"What's your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit I felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"Thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the thirteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nHe was always in a hurry, too busy or too stoned,\nAnd everything that she ever planned just a-had to be postponed.\nHe thought they were successful, she thought they were blessed\nWith objects and material things, but I never was impressed,\nAnd when it all came crashing down, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was a-keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are doctors' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Call Letter Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, I walked all night long hearing them church bells tone,\nYes, I walked all night long listening to them church bells tone,\nEither someone needing mercy or maybe something I've done wrong.\n\nWell, your friends come by for you, I don't know what to say,\nWell, your friends come by for you, I don't know what to say,\nI just ain't - can't face to tell 'em, honey, you just went away.\n\nWell, children cry for mother, I tell 'em, \"Mother took a trip\",\nWell, the children cry for mother, I tell 'em, \"Mother took a trip\",\nWell, I walk on pins and needles, I hope my tongue don't slip.\n\nWell, I gaze at passing strangers in case I might see you,\nYes, I gaze at passing strangers in case I might see you,\nBut the sun goes around the heavens and another day just drives on through.\n\nWay out in the distance I know you're with some other man,\nWay out in the distance I know you're with some other man,\nBut that's alright, baby, you know I always understand.\n\nCall girls in the doorway, all giving me the eye,\nCall girls in the doorway, all giving me the eye,\nBut my heart's just not in it, I might as well pass right on by.\n\nMy ears are ringing, ringing like empty shells,\nMy ears are ringing, ringing like empty shells,\nWell, it can't be no guitar player, it must be convent bells."}
{"name": "Idiot Wind", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Someone's got it in for me, they're planting stories in the press,\nWhoever it is, I wish they'd cut it out, but when they will I can only guess.\nThey say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy,\nShe inherited a million bucks and, when she died, it came to me -\nI can't help it if I'm lucky.\n\nPeople see me all the time and they just can't remember how to act,\nTheir minds are filled with big ideas, images, and distorted facts.\nEven you, yesterday, you had to ask me where it was at,\nI couldn't believe after all these years you didn't know me any better than that,\nSweet lady.\n\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your mouth,\nGoing down the back roads, heading south,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nEyed through the I Ching yesterday, it said there'd be some thunder at the whelm,\nI haven't tasted peace and quiet for so long it seems like living hell.\nThere's a lone soldier on the hill, watching 'fore them raindrops pour,\nYou'd never know it to look at him, but in the final shot he won the war\nAfter losing every battle.\n\nI woke up on the roadside daydreaming about the way things sometimes are,\nHoof-beats pounding in my head at breakneck speed and making me see stars.\nYou hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies,\nOne day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzing around your eyes,\nBlood on your saddle.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the flowers on your tomb,\nBlowing through the curtains in your room,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nIt was gravity which pulled us in and destiny which broke us apart,\nYou tamed the lion in my cage, but it just a-wasn't enough to change my heart.\nNow everything's a little upside down - as a matter of fact, the wheels've stopped,\nWhat's good is bad, what's bad is good, you find out when you reach the top\nYou're on the bottom.\n\nI noticed at the ceremony that you left your bags behind,\nThe driver came in after you left, he gave 'em all to me and then he resigned.\nThe priest wore black on the seventh day and waltzed around while the building burned,\nYou didn't trust me for a minute, babe, I've never known the spring to turn\nSo quickly into autumn.\n\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your jaw,\nFrom the Grand Coulee Dam to the Mardi Gras,\nIdiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth,\nYou're an idiot, babe, it's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.\n\nWe pushed each other a little too far and one day it just turned into a raging storm,\nA hound dog bayed beyond your trees as I was packing up my uniform.\nOh, I figured I'd lost you anyway. Why go on? What's the use?\nIn order to get in a word with you, I'd a-have to come up with some excuse,\nThat just struck me kinda funny.\n\nI been double-crossed too much, at times I think I've almost lost my mind,\nLady-killers load dice on me behind my back while imitators steal me blind.\nYou close your eyes and part your lips and slip your fingers from your glove,\nYou can have the best there is, but it's gonna cost you all your love,\nYou won't get it for money.\n\nIdiot wind blowing through the buttons of our coats,\nBlowing through the letters that we wrote,\nIdiot wind blowing through the dust upon our shelves,\nWe're idiots, babe, it's a wonder we can even feed ourselves."}
{"name": "If You See Her, Say Hello", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "If you see her, say hello, she might be in Tangier,\nShe left here last early spring, is living there, I hear,\nSay for me that I'm alright, though new things come and go,\nShe might think that I've forgotten her - don't tell her, it isn't so.\n\nWe had a falling-out like lovers often will,\nBut to think of how she left that night it still brings me a chill,\nAnd, though our separation, it pierced me to the heart,\nShe still lives inside of me, we've never been apart.\n\nIf you're making love to her, kiss for the kid\nWho always has respected her for doing what she did.\nOh, I know it had to be that way, it was written in the cards,\nBut the bitter taste still lingers on, it all came down so hard.\n\nI see a lot of people as I make the rounds\nAnd I hear her name a-here and there as I go from town to town\nAnd I've never gotten used to it, I've just learned to turn it off,\nEither I'm too sensitive or else I'm getting soft.\n\nSundown, yellow moon, I replay the past,\nI know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast.\nIf she's passing back this way, I'm not that hard to find,\nTell her she can look me up if she's got the time."}
{"name": "Golden Loom", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Smoky autumn night, stars up in the sky,\nI see the sailing boats across the bay go by,\nEucalyptus trees hang above the street\nAnd then I turn my head for you're approaching me.\nMoonlight on the water, fisherman's daughter looking in to my room\nWith the golden loom.\n\nFirst, we wash our feet near the immortal shrine\nAnd then our shadows meet and then we drink the wine.\nI see the hungry clouds up above your face\nAnd then the tears roll down - what a bitter taste!\nYou drift away on a summer's day where the wildflowers bloom\nWith your golden loom.\n\nI walk across the bridge in the dismal light\nWhere all the cars are stripped between the gates of night,\nI see the trembling lion with lotus flower tail\nAnd then I kiss your lips as I lift your veil.\nThen you're gone and then all I seem to recall is the smell of perfume\nAnd your golden loom."}
{"name": "Catfish", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Lazy stadium night, catfish on the mound,\n\"Strike three,\" the umpire said, batter has to go back and sit down.\nCatfish, million-dollar-man,\nNobody can throw the ball like Catfish can.\n\nUsed to work on Mr. Finley's farm, but the old man wouldn't pay,\nSo he packed his glove and took his arm and one day he just ran away.\nCatfish, million-dollar-man,\nNobody can throw the ball like Catfish can.\n\nCome up where the Yankees are, dress up in a pinstripe suit,\nSmoke a custom-made cigar, wear an alligator boot.\nCatfish, million-dollar-man,\nNobody can throw the ball like Catfish can."}
{"name": "Seven Days", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "This is a somewhat new song called \"Seven Days\".\n\nSeven days,\nSeven more days she'll be coming,\nI'll be waiting at the station\nFor her to arrive,\nSeven more days all I gotta do is survive.\n\nShe been gone\nEver since I been a child,\nEver since I seen her smile.\nI've never forgotten her eyes,\nShe had a face that outshined the sun in the skies.\n\nI been good,\nI been good while I been waiting,\nBut maybe guilty of a-hesitating.\nBut I've been hanging on,\nSeven more days and all that will be gone.\n\nWell, there's kissing in the valley,\nThieving in the alley,\nFighting every inch of the way.\nTrying to get a lead on\nSomebody new to beat on\nWhere the nights are always sadder than the day.\n\nSeven days,\nSeven days zipping and blowing,\nBut then a whistle will be blowing\nAnd she'll be coming forth,\nMy beautiful comrade from the north.\n\nWell, there's a-fighting in the valley,\nThieving in the alley,\nFighting every inch of the way.\nTrying to get a lead on\nSomebody new to beat on\nWhere the nights are always sadder than the day.\n\nSeven days\nAnd I'll know the wind blows snowing\nAnd then a whistle will be blowing,\nShe'll be coming forth,\nMy beautiful comrade from the north.\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Ye Shall Be Changed", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "You harbor resentment, you know that ain't too much of a thrill,\nYou wish for contentment, but you got an emptiness that can't be filled,\nYou had enough of hatred,\nYour bones are breaking, can't find nothing sacred.\nYe shall be changed,\nYe shall be changed,\nIn a twinkling of an eye when the last trumpet blows,\nThe dead will arise and burst out of your clothes\nAnd ye shall be changed.\n\nEverything you've gotten you've gotten by sweat, blood, and the muscle,\nFrom early in the morning till way past dark, all you ever do is a-hustle,\nAll your loved ones have walked out of the door,\nYou're not even sure 'bout your wife and kids no more.\nBut ye shall be a-changed,\nYe shall be changed,\nIn a twinkling of an eye when the last trumpet blows,\nThe dead will arise and burst out of your clothes\nAnd ye shall be changed.\n\nThe past don't control you, but the future's like a roulette wheel spinning,\nDeep down inside, you know, you know - need a whole new beginning.\nDon't have to go to Russia or Iran,\nJust surrender to God and He'll move you right here where you stand\nAnd ye shall be a-changed,\nYe shall be a-changed,\nIn a twinkling of an eye when the last trumpet blows,\nThe dead will arise and burst out of your clothes\nAnd ye shall be a-changed.\n\nYou drink bitter water on your bed, eating your bread of sorrow,\nCan't live for today when all you're thinking of-a is tomorrow.\nThe path you've endured has been rough,\nWhen you've decided that you've had enough,\nYe shall be a-changed,\nYe shall be a-changed,\nIn a twinkling of an eye when the last trumpet blows,\nThe dead will arise and burst out of your clothes\nAnd ye shall be changed."}
{"name": "Every Grain of Sand", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need,\nWhen the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed,\nThere's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere,\nToiling in the danger, in the morals of despair.\nDon't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,\nLike Cain I now behold this chain of events that I must break.\nIn the fury of the moment I can see the master's hand\nIn every leaf that trembles and in every grain of sand.\n\nOh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,\nLike criminals they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer,\nThe sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way,\nTo ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.\nI gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame\nAnd, every time I pass that way, I always hear my name.\nThen, onward in my journey, I come to understand\nThat every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.\n\nI have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night,\nIn the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light,\nIn the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,\nIn the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.\nI hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea,\nSometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.\nI am hanging in the balance of a perfect, finished plan\nLike every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand."}
{"name": "You Changed My Life", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I was listening to the voices of death on parade\nSinging about conspiracy, wanting me to be afraid,\nWorking for a system I couldn't understand or trust,\nSuffering ridicule, they want me give it all up in disgust.\nBut you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nIn hunger and need you made my heart bleed, you changed my life.\n\nTalk about salvation, people suddenly get tired,\nThey got a million things to do, they're all so inspired.\nYou do the work of the devil, you got a million friends,\nThey'll be there when you got something, they'll take it all in the end.\nBut you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nI was under the dome where nothing is sung, you changed my life.\n\nWell, the nature of man is to beg and to steal,\nI'd do it myself, it's not so unreal.\nThe call of the wild is forever at my door,\nWant me to fly like an eagle while being chained to the floor.\nBut you changed my life, you came along in a time of strife,\nFrom silver and gold, from what man cannot hold, you changed my life.\n\nWell, I was eating with the pigs off a fancy tray,\nI was told I was looking good and to have a nice day.\nIt all seemed so proper, it all seemed so elite,\nEating that obsolete garbage while being so discreet.\nBut you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nFrom silver and gold, from what man cannot hold, you changed my life.\n\nYou were glowing in the sun while being peaceably calm.\nWell, how often's a man dance to the beat of the palm?\nYour eyes were on fire, your feet were of brass,\nIn the world you had made they had made you an outcast.\nBut you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nFrom silver and gold, from what man cannot hold, you changed my life.\n\nThere was someone in my body that I could hardly see\nInvading my privacy and making my decisions for me,\nHolding me back, not letting me stand,\nMaking me feel like a stranger in a strange land.\nBut you, you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nYou came down the line, gave me a new mind, you changed my life.\n\nMy lord and my savior, my companion, my friend,\nHeart-fixer, mind-regulator, true to the end.\nMy creator, my comforter, my cause for joy,\nWell, the world is set against but will never destroy.\nBut you, you changed my life, came along in a time of strife,\nYou came in like a wind, like Errol Flynn, you changed my life."}
{"name": "Need a Woman", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Lately I've been having evil dreams, I wake up in a cold, blue lair,\nI run the tape back in my mind wondering if I took the wrong road somewhere,\nSearching for the truth the way God designed it,\nWell, the real truth is that I may be afraid to find it.\nWell, I need a woman, alright!\nNeed a woman every night to be with me and lonely as I am,\nTo show me the kinda love that don't have to be condemned,\nAnd I want you to be that woman every time.\n\nI've had my eyes on you, baby, for five long years,\nWell, you probably don't know me at all, but I've seen your laughter and I've seen your tears.\nTell-tale heart will show itself to anybody near,\nThere's always some new stranger in the night to lend a sympathetic ear.\nWell, I need a woman to take my own,\nI need a woman that's mine alone.\nSeen you in the door-way, I seen you in the park,\nSeen you in the sunshine, I seen you in the dark,\nAnd I want you to be that woman.\n\nYou keep listening to something long enough, you're just bound to believe that it's true,\nYou know, there's some things that you put out, it's gonna come back on you.\nThat which is not permanent don't last.\nWhatever's waiting in the future could be what you're running from in the past.\nWell, I need a woman [incomprehensible],\nNeed a woman [incomprehensible],\nSomeone who likes simple things, is not afraid to bend,\nSomeone who don't pick herself up to make every man her friend,\nAnd I want you to be that woman.\n\nDon't know what you got that I want, don't know what I got to give,\nDon't know how much time I got, don't know how long I'll live.\nWell, the [incomprehensible] in my soul, why was it created?\nTo blur the focus of my mind and keep my isolated?\nBut I need a woman, it ain't no crime,\nNeed a woman all the time,\nTo see the promised land with me as the time go by,\nTo rule my heart with sweetness and boldness from on high,\nAnd I want you to be that woman, yes, I do,\nNeed that woman straight and true."}
{"name": "Angelina", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Well, it's always been my nature to take chances,\nMy right hand drawing back while my left hand advances,\nWhere the current is strong and the monkey dances to the tune of a concertina.\nBlood drying in my yellow hair as I go from shore to shore,\nI know what it is that has drawn me to your door,\nBut whatever could it be makes you think you've seen me before, Angelina?\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina.\n\nHis eyes were two slits - make any snake proud,\nWith a face that any painter would paint as he walked through the crowd\nWorshiping a god with the body of a woman well-endowed and the head of a hyena.\nDo I need your permission to turn the other cheek?\nIf you can read my mind, why must I speak?\nNo, I have heard nothing about the man that you seek, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina.\n\nIn the valley of the giants where the stars and stripes explode,\nThe peaches, they were sweet and the milk and honey flowed.\nI was only following instructions when the judge sent me down the road with your subpoena.\nWhen you cease to exist, then who will you blame?\nI've tried my best to love you, but I cannot play this game,\nYour best friend and my worst enemy is one and the same, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina.\n\nThere's a black Mercedes rolling through the combat zone,\nYour servants are half-dead, you're down to the bone.\nTell me, tall man, where would you like to be overthrown, in Jerusalem or Argentina?\nShe was stolen from her mother when she was three days old,\nNow her vengeance has been satisfied and her possessions have been sold.\nHe's surrounded by God's angels and she's wearing a blindfold, but so are you, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina.\n\nI see pieces of men marching, trying to take heaven by force,\nI can see the unknown rider, I can see the pale white horse.\nIn God's truth, babe, tell me what you want and you'll have it of course, just step into the arena.\nBeat a path of retreat up them spiral staircases,\nPast the tree of smoke, past the angel with four faces,\nBegging God for mercy, weeping in unholy places, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina,\nOh, Angelina."}
{"name": "Someone's Got a Hold of My Heart", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "They say eat, drink, and be merry, take the bull by the horns,\nI keep seeing visions of you, a lily among thorns,\nEverything looks a little far away to me.\nGetting harder and harder to recognize the trap,\nToo much information about nothing, too much educated rap,\nJust like you told me, it's just like you said it would be.\nWell, the moon going up like wildfire, I feel the breath of the storm,\nThere's something I got to do tonight, you go inside and stay warm.\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nYou, you, you, you, you got a hold of my heart.\n\nJust got back from a city, city of red skies,\nEverybody thinks with their stomach and there's plenty of spies,\nEvery street is crooked, they just wind around until they disappear.\nMadame Butterfly, she lulled me to sleep\nLike an ancient river so wide and so deep,\nShe said, \"Be easy, baby, ain't nothing worth stealing here.\"\nYou're the one I been waiting for, you're the one that I desire,\nBut you must realize first I'm not another man you can hire.\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nYou, you, you, you, you got a hold of my heart.\n\nI can hear that hot-blooded singer on the bandstand croon\n\"Poison Love\", \"Red Roses for Blue Lady\", and \"Memphis in June\"\nWhile they're beating the devil out of a guy who's wearing a powder-blue wig.\nI've been to Babylon and I got to confess\nI can still hear that voice crying in the wilderness,\nWhat look large from a distance close up is never that big.\nNever could learn to drink that blood and call it wine,\nNever could learn to look at your face and call it mine.\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nSomeone got a hold of my heart,\nYou, you, you, you, you got a hold of my heart, oh, yeah!"}
{"name": "Tell Me", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Tell me, tell me, I've got to know,\nTell me, tell me before I go,\nDoes that fire still burn? Does that flame still glow?\nOr has it died out and melted like the snow?\nTell me,\nTell me.\n\nTell me, what are you focused upon?\nWill it come to me after you're gone?\nTell me now with a glance or a sigh,\nShould I hold you close or let you go by?\nTell me,\nTell me.\n\nIs that the heat of the beat of your pulse that I feel?\nIf it's not that, then what is it you're trying to conceal?\nDo you have any secrets that will only come out in time?\nDo you lay in your bed? Do you stare at the stars?\nIs your main friend someone who's an old, known acquaintance of ours?\nTell me,\nYes, tell me.\n\nTell me, are those rock-and-roll dreams in your eyes?\nTell me behind what door your treasure lies.\nEver gone broke in a big way?\nEver done the opposite of what the experts say?\nTell me,\nHmm, tell me.\n\nIs it some kinda game that you're playing with my heart?\nHow deep must I go? Where do I start?\nDo you have any morals? Do you have any point of view?\nIs that a smile that I see on your face?\nWill it lead me to glory or lead me to disgrace?\nTell me,\nHmm, tell me.\n\nTell me, is that my name in your book?\nTell me, will you go back and take another look?\nTell me the truth, don't tell me no lies,\nAre you anybody someone prays for or cries?\nTell me,\nHmm, tell me."}
{"name": "Lord Protect My Child", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "For his age he is wise,\nHe's got his mother's eyes.\nThere's gladness in his heart, he's young and he's wild.\nMy only prayer is if I can't be there,\nLord, protect my child.\n\nAs his youth now unfolds,\nHe is centuries old,\nSee him at play makes me smile.\nNo matter what happens to me, no matter what my destiny,\nLord, protect my child.\n\nWell, the whole earth is asleep,\nYou could look at it and weep,\nFew things you find are worthwhile.\nAnd, though I don't ask for much, no material things to touch,\nLord, protect my child.\n\nHe's young and on fire,\nFull of hope and desire\nIn a world that's been raped, raped and defiled.\nIf I fall along the way and can't see another day,\nA-lord, protect my child.\n\nThere'll be a time, I hear tell,\nWhen all will be well,\nWhen God and man will be reconciled,\nBut, until men lose their chains and righteousness reigns,\nLord, protect my child."}
{"name": "Foot of Pride", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Like the lion tears the flesh off of a man,\nSo can a woman who passes herself off as a male.\nThey sang \"Danny Boy\" at his funeral and the Lord's Prayer,\nThe preacher talked 'bout Christ's betrayal,\nIt's like the earth just opened and swallowed him up,\nHe reached too high, was thrown back to the ground.\nYou know what they say about being nice to the right people on the way up,\nSooner or later you're gonna meet them coming down.\nYeah, there ain't no going back,\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back.\n\nHe got a brother named James, don't forget faces or names,\nSunken cheeks and his blood is mixed.\nHe look straight into the sun and say, \"Revenge is mine, huh?\"\nBut he drinks and drinks can be fixed.\nSing me one more song about your love into the morning, stranger,\nAnd your fall-by-the-sword love affair with Errol Flynn.\nIn these times of compassion when conformity's in fashion,\nSay one more stupid thing to me before the final nail is driven in.\nWell, there ain't no going back,\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back.\n\nThere's a retired businessman named Red,\nCast down from heaven and he's out of his head,\nHe feeds off of everyone that a-he can touch.\nHe said that he only deals in cash, would sell tickets to a plane crash,\nNot somebody that you play around with much.\nMs. Delilah is his, a Philistine is what she is,\nShe'll do wondrous a-works with your fate,\nFeed you coconut bread, spice buns in bed,\nIf you don't mind sleeping with your head face-down in a plate.\nWell, there ain't no going back,\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back.\n\nWell, they'll choose a man for you to meet tonight,\nYou'll play the fool and learn how to walk through doors,\nHow to enter into the gates of paradise, no,\nHow to carry a burden too heavy to be yours.\nYeah, from the stage they'll be trying to get water outta rocks,\nA whore will pass the hat, collect a hundred grand, and say thanks.\nThey like to take all this money from sin, build big universities to study in,\nSing \"Amazing Grace\" all the way to the Swiss banks.\nWell, there ain't no going back,\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back.\n\nThey got some beautiful people out there, man,\nThey can be a terror to your mind and show you how to hold your tongue.\nThey got mystery written all over their forehead,\nThey kill babies in the crib and say, \"Only the good die young.\"\nThey don't believe in mercy,\nJudgment on them is something that you'll never see,\nThey can exalt you up or bring you down bankrupt,\nTurn you into anything that they want you to be.\nWell, there ain't no going back\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back.\n\nYes, I guess I loved him too, I can still see him in my mind climbing that hill.\nDid he make it to the top? Well, he probably did and dropped,\nStruck down by the strength of the will.\nAin't nothing left here, partner,\nJust the dust of a plague that has left this whole town afraid.\nFrom now on this'll be where you're from,\nLet the dead bury the dead, your time will come,\nLet hot iron blow as you raise the shade.\nAin't no going back,\nWhen your foot of pride come down, ain't no going back,\nOh, yeah!\nOh, yeah!"}
{"name": "Blind Willie McTell", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "Seen the arrow on the door-post saying this land is condemned\nAll the way from New Orleans to Jerusalem.\nI traveled through East Texas where many martyrs fell\nAnd I know no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell.\n\nWell, I heard the hoot owl singing as they were taking down the tents,\nThe stars above the barren trees was his only audience.\nThem charcoal gypsy maidens can strut their feathers well,\nBut nobody can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell.\n\nSee them big plantations burning, hear the cracking of the whips,\nSmell that sweet magnolia blooming, see the ghost of slavery ships,\nI can hear them tribes moaning, hear that undertaker's bell,\nNobody can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell.\n\nThere's a woman by the river with some fine, young, handsome man,\nHe's dressed up like a squire, bootlegged whiskey in his hand,\nThere's a chain gang on the highway, I can hear them rebels yell,\nAnd I know no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell.\n\nWell, God is in his heaven and we all want what's his,\nBut power and greed and corruptible seed seem to be all that there is.\nI'm gazing out the window of the St. James Hotel\nAnd I know no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell."}
{"name": "When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "You can look out across the fields, see me returning,\nSmoke gets in your eyes, you draw the smile\nFrom the fireplace where now my letters to you are burning,\nYou've had time to think about it for a while.\nI've walked two hundred miles, now look me over,\nIt's the end of the chase and the moon is high,\nIt don't matter who loves who - either you'll love me or I'll love you -\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nI can see through your walls and I know you're hurting,\nSorrow covers you up like a cape,\nOnly yesterday I know that you've been flirting\nWith disaster that you somehow managed to escape.\nOh, that I can't provide for you no easy answer.\nWho are you that I should have to lie?\nYou'll know everything I know down below and up above\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nI can hear your trembling heart beat like a river \nAnd recently you've thought you've seen it all,\nBut you're disappointed now with those who did not deliver,\nBut it was you who set yourself up for a fall.\nI seen thousands who could've overcome the darkness,\nFor the love of a lousy buck I watched them die.\nStick around, baby, we're not through, don't look for me, I'll see you\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nIn your teardrops I can see my own reflection,\nLuck was with me when I crossed the borderline,\nI don't wanna be a fool that's starving for affection,\nI don't wanna drown in someone else's wine.\nFor all eternity I think I will remember\nThat whirlpool of life that's in your eye,\nYou will seek me and you'll find me in the wasteland of your mind\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky.\n\nWell, I gave to you my heart, my bed, and treasure\nWhose suffering seemed to fit you like a glove,\nI'm so tired of those who use you for their own pleasure,\nWho think they've got the line up for me on love.\nWell, this time I'm asking for freedom,\nFreedom from a world which you deny,\nAnd you'll give it to me now or I'll take it anyhow\nWhen the night comes falling from the sky."}
{"name": "Series of Dreams", "album": "The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991", "album_year": "1991", "text": "I was thinking of a series of dreams\nWhere nothing comes up to the top,\nEverything stays down where it's wounded\nAnd comes to a permanent stop,\nWasn't thinking of anything specific\nLike in a dream when someone wakes up and screams,\nNothing too very scientific,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams.\n\nThinking of a series of dreams\nWhere the time and the tempo drag\nAnd there's no exit in any direction\n'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes,\nWasn't making any great connection,\nWasn't falling for any intricate scheme,\nNothing that would pass inspection,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nDreams where the umbrella is folded\nAnd into the path you are hurled\nAnd the cards are no good that you're holding\nUnless they're from another world.\n\nIn one the surface was frozen,\nIn another I witnessed a crime,\nIn one I was running and in another\nAll I seemed to be doing was climb,\nWasn't looking for any special assistance\nAnd not going through any great extreme,\nI'd already gone the distance,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nDreams where the umbrella is folded\nAnd into the path you are hurled\nAnd the cards are no good that you're holding\nUnless they're from another world.\nI'd already gone the distance,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams."}
{"name": "Frankie & Albert", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Frankie was a good girl, everybody know,\nPaid one hundred dollars for Albert's new suite of clothes.\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong.\n\nAlbert said, \"I'm leaving you, won't be gone for long.\nDon't wait up for me, a-worry about me when I'm gone.\"\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong.\n\nFrankie went down to the corner saloon, get a bucket of beer,\nSaid to the bartender, \"Has my loving man been here?\"\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong.\n\n\"Well, I ain't gonna tell you no story, I ain't gonna tell you no lie,\nI saw Albert an hour ago with a gal named Alice Fry.\"\nHe was her man, he done her wrong.\n\nFrankie went down to Twelfth Street, look up through the window high,\nShe saw her Albert there a-loving up Alice Fry.\nHe was her man, he done her wrong.\n\nFrankie pulled out a pistol, pulled out a .44,\nGun went off a-rootie-toot-toot and Albert fell on the floor.\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong.\n\nFrankie got down upon her knees, took a-Albert into her lap,\nStarted to hug and kiss him, but there was no bringing him back.\nHe was her man, he done her wrong.\n\n\"Give me a thousand policemen, throw me into a cell,\nI shot my Albert dead and now I'm going to hell.\nHe was my man, but he done me wrong.\"\n\nJudge said to the jury, \"Plain as a thing can be,\nA woman shot her lover down, murder in the second degree.\"\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong.\n\nFrankie went to the scaffold calm as a girl could be,\nTurned her eyes up towards the heavens, said, \"Nearer, my God, to Thee.\"\nHe was her man, but he done her wrong."}
{"name": "Jim Jones", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Come and listen for a moment, lads, and hear me tell my tale,\nHow across the sea from England I was condemned to sail.\nNow, the jury found me guilty, then says the judge, says he,\n\"Oh, for life, Jim Jones, I'm sending you across the stormy sea,\nBut take a trip before you ship to join the iron gang:\nDon't get too gay in Botany Bay or else you'll surely hang.\"\n\"Or else you'll surely hang,\" says he, \"And after that, Jim Jones,\nIt's high above on the gallows tree the crows will pick your bones.\"\n\nAnd our ship was high upon the sea when pirates came along,\nBut the soldiers on our convict ship were full five hundred strong\nFor they opened fire and somehow drove that pirate ship away,\nBut I'd rather have joined that pirate ship than gone to Botany Bay.\nWith the storms raging 'round us and the winds a-blowing gales,\nI'd rather have drowned in misery than gone to New South Wales.\n\"There's no time for mischief there,\" they say. \"Remember that,\" says they,\n\"Oh, they'll flog the poaching outta you down there in Botany Bay.\"\n\nNow, it's day and night the irons clang and, like poor galley slaves,\nOh, we toil and toil and, when we die, must fill dishonored graves.\nWell, it's by and by I'll slip my chains, into the bush I'll go\nAnd I'll join the bravest rankers there, Jack Donohue and Co.,\nAnd some dark night when everything is silent in the town\nI'll shoot those tyrants one and all, I'll gun the floggers down.\nOh, I'll give the land a little shock, remember what I say,\nAnd they'll yet regret they've sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay."}
{"name": "Blackjack Davey", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Blackjack Davey come a-riding on by, whistling aloud and merry,\nMade the woods around him ring and he charmed the heart of a lady,\nCharmed the heart of a lady.\n\n\"How old are you, my pretty, little miss? How old are you, my honey?\"\nShe answered to him with a loving smile, \"I'll be sixteen come Sunday,\nBe sixteen come Sunday.\"\n\n\"Come and go with me, my pretty, little miss, come and go with me, my honey.\nTake you where the grass grows green, you never will want for money,\nNever will want for money.\n\n\"Pull off, pull off them high-heeled shoes all made of Spanish leather,\nGet behind me on my horse and we'll ride off together,\nWe'll both go off together.\"\n\nWell, she pulled off them high-heeled shoes made of Spanish leather,\nGot behind him on his horse and they rode off together,\nThey both rode off together.\n\nThat night, the boss came home inquiring about his lady.\nThe servant spoke before she thought, \"She's been with Blackjack Davey,\nRode off with Blackjack Davey.\"\n\n\"Well, saddle for me my coal-black stud, he's speedier than the gray.\nI rode all day and I'll ride all night and I'll overtake my lady,\nI'll bring back my lady.\"\n\nWell, he rode all night till the broad daylight till he came to a river raging\nAnd there he spied his darling bride in the arms of Blackjack Davey,\nWrapped up with Blackjack Davey.\n\n\"Pull off, pull off them long, blue gloves all made of the finest leather,\nGive to me your lily-white hand and we'll go home together,\nWe'll both go home together.\"\n\nWell, she pulled off them long, blue gloves all made of the finest leather,\nGave to him her lily-white hand and say good-bye forever,\nBid farewell forever.\n\n\"Would you forsake your house and home? Would you forsake your baby?\nWould you forsake your husband too to go with Blackjack Davey,\nRide off with Blackjack Davey?\"\n\n\"Well, I've forsaken my house and home and I'll forsake my baby,\nI'll forsake my husband too for the love of Blackjack Davey,\nLove my Blackjack Davey.\n\n\"Last night I slept in a feather bed between my husband and baby,\nTonight I lay on the river banks in the arms of Blackjack Davey,\nLove my Blackjack Davey.\""}
{"name": "Canadee-i-o", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Well, it's all of a fair and a handsome girl, she's all in her tender years.\nShe fell in love with a sailor boy, it's true she loved him well\nFor to go off to sea with him like she did not know how.\nShe longed to see that seaport town of Canadee-i-o.\n\nSo she bargained with the sailor boy all for a piece of gold.\nStraightaway then he led her down into the hold,\nSaying, \"I'll dress you up in sailor's clothes, your jacket shall be blue.\nYou'll see that seaport town of Canadee-i-o.\"\n\nNow, when the other sailors heard the news, well, they fell into a rage\nAnd with all the ship's company they were willing to engage,\nSaying, \"We'll tie her hands and feet, my boys, overboard, we'll throw her.\nShe'll never see that seaport town called Canadee-i-o.\"\n\nNow, when the captain, he heard the news, well, he too fell in a rage\nAnd with the whole ship's company he was willing to engage,\nSaying, \"She'll stay all in sailor's clothes, her color shall be blue.\nShe'll see that seaport town called Canadee-i-o.\"\n\nNow, when they came down to Canada scarcely about half a year,\nShe's married this bold captain, who called her his dear.\nShe's dressed in silks and satins now, she cuts a gallant shawl,\nFinest of the ladies down Canadee-i-o.\n\nCome, all you fair and tender girls, wheresoever you may be,\nI'd have you to follow your own, true love whenever he goes to sea\nFor, if the sailors prove false to you, well, the captain, he might prove true.\nYou'll see the honor I have gained by the wearing of the blue."}
{"name": "Sittin' on Top of the World", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "'Twas in the summer one early fall,\nJust trying to find my little all and all.\nNow she's gone and I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world.\n\n'Twas in the spring one summer's day,\nJust when she left me, she gon' to stay.\nNow she's gone, I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world.\n\nNow, don't come running holding up your hand,\nCan get me a woman quick as you can get a man.\nNow she's gone and I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world.\n\nHappen for days, didn't know your name.\nWhy should I worry or crave you in vain?\nNow she's gone, I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world.\n\nWent to the station down in the yard,\nGon' get me a freight train, the work done got hard.\nNow she's gone, I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world.\n\nThe lonesome days, they have gone by.\nWhy should I beg you? You said good-bye.\nNow she's gone, I don't worry,\nLord, I'm sitting on top of the world."}
{"name": "Little Maggie", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Oh, where is Little Maggie? Over yonder she stand,\nRifle on her shoulder, six-shooter in her hand.\nHow can I ever stand it, just to see them two blue eyes\nShining like some diamonds, like some diamonds in the sky?\nRather be in some lonely hollow where the sun don't ever shine\nThan to see you be another man's darling and to know that you'll never be mine.\n\nWell, it's march me away to the station with my suitcase in my hand,\nYes, march me away to the station, I'm off to some far, distant land.\nSometimes I have a nickel and sometimes I have a dime,\nSometimes I have ten dollars just to pay Little Maggie's wine.\nPretty flowers are made for blooming, pretty stars are made to shine,\nPretty girls are made for boys' love, Little Maggie was made for mine.\n\nWell, yonder stands Little Maggie with a dram-glass in her hand,\nShe's a-drinking down her troubles over courting some other man."}
{"name": "Hard Times", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears\nWhile we all sup sorrow with the poor.\nThere's a song that will linger forever in our ears,\nOh, hard times, come again no more.\n'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,\nHard times, hard times, come again no more.\nMany days you have lingered all around my cabin door,\nOh, hard times, come again no more.\n\nWhile we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay,\nThere are frail forms fainting at the door.\nThough their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say,\n\"Oh, hard times, come again no more.\"\n'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,\nHard times, hard times, come again no more.\nMany days you have lingered all around my cabin door,\nOh, hard times, come again no more.\n\nThere's a pale, drooping maiden who toils her life away\nWith a worn heart, whose better days are over.\nThough her voice, it would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,\n\"Oh, hard times, come again no more.\"\n'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,\nHard times, hard times, come again no more.\nMany days you have lingered all around my cabin door,\nOh, hard times, come again no more.\n\n'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,\nHard times, hard times, come again no more.\nMany days you have lingered all around my cabin door,\nOh, hard times, come again no more."}
{"name": "Step It Up and Go", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Got a little girl, who's little and low,\nShe used to love me, but she don't no more.\nShe gotta step it up and go, yeah, go!\nCan't stand back, swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nGot a little girl, she stays upstairs,\nMake a living by a-putting on airs.\nGotta step it up and go, yeah, man!\nCan't stand pat, I swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nFront door shut, back door too,\nBlinds pulled down, what you gonna do?\nGotta step it up and go, yeah, go!\nCan't stand pat, swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nGot a little girl, her name is Ball,\nGive a little bit, she took it all!\nNow step it up and go, yeah, man!\nCan't stand pat, I swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nMe and my baby walking down the street,\nTelling everybody 'bout the chief of police.\nGotta step it up and go, yeah, go!\nCan't stand pat, I swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nTell my woman I'll see her at home,\nAin't no loving since she been gone.\nGotta step it up and go, yeah, go!\nCan't stand back, swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nWell, I'll sing this verse, ain't gonna sing no more.\nHear my gal call me, God, I got to go!\nStep it up and go, yeah, man!\nCan't stand back, swear you gotta step it up and go!\n\nWell!\nOh!\nYeah, man!"}
{"name": "Tomorrow Night", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Tomorrow night will you remember what you said tonight? \nTomorrow night will all the thrill be gone? \nTomorrow night will it be just another memory \nOr just another song that's in my heart to linger on?\n\nYour lips are so tender, your heart is beating fast,\nHow you willingly surrender to me, but, darling, will it last? \nTomorrow night will you be with me when the moon is bright? \nTomorrow night would you say those lovely things you said tonight?\n\nYour lips are so tender, your heart is beating fast,\nAnd you willingly surrender to me, but, darling will it last? \nTomorrow night will you be with me when the moon is bright? \nTomorrow night would you say those lovely things you said tonight?"}
{"name": "Arthur McBride", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "A-Me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,\nAs we went a-walking down by the seaside,\nNow, mark what followed and what did betide for it being on Christmas morning.\nNow, for recreation we went on a tramp\nAnd we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp\nAnd a little wee drummer intending to camp for a day being pleasant and charming.\n\n\"Good morning, good morning,\" the Sergeant, he cried.\n\"And the same to you, gentlemen,\" we did reply,\nIntending no harm, but meant to pass by for it being on Christmas morning.\n\"But,\" says he, \"My fine fellows, if you will enlist,\nA-ten guineas in gold I'll stick in your fist\nAnd a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust and drink the king's health in the morning.\n\n\"For a soldier, he leads a very fine life\nAnd he always is blessed with a charming, young wife\nAnd he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife and he always lives pleasant and charming.\nAnd a soldier, he always is decent and clean,\nIn the finest of clothing he's constantly seen\nWhile other poor fellows go dirty and mean and sup on thin gruel in the morning.\"\n\n\"But,\" says Arthur, \"I wouldn't be proud of your clothes\nFor you've only the lend of them as I suppose\nAnd you dare not change them one night for you know, if you do, you'll be flogged in the morning.\nAnd, although that we're single and free,\nWe take great delight in our own company,\nWe have no desire strange places to see although that your offers are charming.\n\n\"And we have no desire to take your advance,\nAll hazards and dangers we barter on chance\nFor you'd have no scruples for to send us to France where we would get shot without warning.\"\n\"Oh, no,\" says the Sergeant, \"I'll have no such chat\nAnd neither will take it from snappy, young brats\nFor, if you insult me with one other word, I'll cut off your heads in the morning.\"\n\nAnd Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs,\nWe scarce gave them time to draw their own blades\nWhen a trusty shillelagh came over their head and bid them take that as fair warning.\nAnd their old, rusty rapiers that hung by their sides,\nWe flung them as far as we could in the tide.\n\"Now, take them up, devils!\" cried Arthur McBride, \"And temper their edge in the morning!\"\n\nAnd the little, wee drummer, we flattened his bow\nAnd we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow,\nThrew it in the tide for to rock and to roll and bade it a tedious returning.\nAnd we, having no money, paid them off in cracks,\nWe paid no respect to their two bloody backs,\nAnd we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks, and left them for dead in the morning.\n\nAnd so, to conclude and to finish disputes,\nWe obligingly asked if they wanted recruits\nFor we were the lads who'd a-give them hard clouts and bid them look sharp in the morning.\n\nOh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,\nAs we went a-walking down by the seaside,\nNow, mark what followed and what did betide for it being on Christmas morning."}
{"name": "You're Gonna Quit Me", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "You're gon' quit me, baby,\nGood as I been to you, Lord, Lord,\nGood as I been to you, Lord, Lord,\nGood as I been to you.\n\nGive you my money, honey,\nBuy you shoes and clothes, Lord, Lord,\nBuy you shoes and clothes, Lord, Lord,\nBuy you shoes and clothes.\n\nYou're gon' quit me, baby,\nPut me outta doors, Lord, Lord,\nPut me outta doors, Lord, Lord,\nPut me outta doors.\n\nSix months on the chain gang,\nBelieve me, it ain't no fun, Lord, Lord,\nBelieve me, it ain't no fun, Lord, Lord,\nBelieve me, it ain't no fun.\n\nDay you quit me, baby,\nThat's the day you die, Lord, Lord,\nThat's the day you die, Lord, Lord,\nThat's the day you die.\n\nJailhouse ain't no plaything,\nBelieve me, ain't no lie, Lord, Lord,\nBelieve me, ain't no lie, Lord, Lord,\nBelieve me, ain't no lie.\n\nThe day you quit me, baby,\nThat's the day you die, Lord, Lord,\nThat's the day you die, Lord, Lord,\nThat's the day you die."}
{"name": "Diamond Joe", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Now, there's a man you'll hear about most anywhere you go\nAnd his holdings are in Texas and his name is Diamond Joe\nAnd he carries all his money in a diamond-studded jar,\nNever took much trouble with the process of the law.\n\nI hired out to Diamond Joe, boys, did offer him my hand,\nHe gave me a string of horses so old they could not stand,\nAnd I nearly starved to death, boys, he did mistreat me so.\nAnd I never saved a dollar in the pay of Diamond Joe.\n\nNow, his bread, it was corn dodger and his meat you couldn't chaw,\nNearly drove me crazy with the wagging of his jaw,\nAnd the telling of his story, mean to let you know,\nThat there never was a rounder that could lie like Diamond Joe.\n\nI tried three times to quit him, but he did argue so,\nI'm still punching cattle in the pay of Diamond Joe.\nAnd, when I'm called up yonder and it's my time to go,\nGive my blankets to my buddies, give the fleas to Diamond Joe."}
{"name": "Froggie Went A-Courtin'", "album": "Good As I Been to You", "album_year": "1992", "text": "Frog went a-courting and a-he did ride, uh-huh,\nFrog went a-courting and a-he did ride, uh-huh,\nFrog went a-courting and a-he did ride\nWith a sword and a pistol by his side, uh-huh.\n\nWell, he rode right up to Ms. Mousey's door, uh-huh,\nHe rode right up to Ms. Mousey's door, uh-huh,\nHe rode right up to Ms. Mousey's door,\nGave three loud raps and a very big roar, uh-huh,\n\nSaid, \"Ms. Mouse, be you within?\" Uh-huh.\nSaid he, \"Ms. Mouse, are you within?\" Uh-huh.\nSaid, \"Ms. Mouse, are you within?\"\n\"Yes, kind sir, I sit and spin.\" Uh-huh.\n\nHe took Ms. Mousey on his knee, uh-huh,\nTook Ms. Mousey on his knee, uh-huh,\nTook Ms. Mousey on his knee,\nSaid, \"Ms. Mousey, will you marry me?\" Uh-huh.\n\n\"Without my uncle Rat's consent,\" - uh-huh,\n\"Without my uncle Rat's consent,\" - uh-huh,\n\"Without my uncle Rat's consent,\nI wouldn't marry the president.\" Uh-huh.\n\nUncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides, uh-huh,\nUncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides, uh-huh,\nUncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides\nTo think his niece would be a bride, uh-huh.\n\nUncle went riding, trip downtown, uh-huh,\nUncle Rat went running downtown, uh-huh,\nUncle Rat went running downtown\nTo buy his niece a wedding gown, uh-huh.\n\n\"Where shall the wedding supper be?\" Uh-huh,\n\"Where shall the wedding supper be?\" Uh-huh,\n\"Where shall the wedding supper be?\"\n\"Way down yonder in the hollow tree.\" Uh-huh.\n\n\"What should the wedding supper be?\" Uh-huh,\n\"What should the wedding supper be?\" Uh-huh,\n\"What should the wedding supper be?\"\n\"Fried mosquito in a black-eyed pea.\" Uh-huh.\n\nWell, first to come in was the flying moth, uh-huh,\nFirst to come in was the flying moth, uh-huh,\nFirst to come in was the flying moth,\nShe laid out the tablecloth, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was the Juney bug, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the Juney bug, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the Juney bug,\nShe brought the water jug, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was the bumbly bee, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the bumbly bee, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the bumbly bee,\nSet mosquito on his knee, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was a broken-back flea, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a broken, black flea, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a broken, black flea,\nDanced a jig with the bumbly bee, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was Mrs. Cow, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was Mrs. Cow, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was Mrs. Cow,\nShe tried to dance, but she didn't know how, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was a little, black tick, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a little, black tick, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a little, black tick,\nShe ate so much she made us sick, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was a big, black snake, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a big, black snake, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was a big, black snake,\nAte up all of the wedding cake, uh-huh.\n\nNext to come in was the old, gray cat, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the old, gray cat, uh-huh,\nNext to come in was the old, gray cat,\nSwallowed the mouse and ate up the rat, uh-huh.\n\nMr. Frog went a-hopping up over the brook, uh-huh,\nMr. Frog went a-hopping up over the brook, uh-huh,\nMr. Frog went a-hopping up over the brook,\nA lily-white duck come and swallowed him up, uh-huh.\n\nA little piece of cornbread a-laying on a shelf, uh-huh,\nA little piece of cornbread laying on the shelf, uh-huh,\nA little piece of cornbread laying on the shelf.\nIf you want anymore, you can sing it yourself, uh-huh."}
{"name": "World Gone Wrong", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Strange things have happened than ever before,\nMy baby told me I would have to go.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, because the world gone wrong.\n\nFeel bad this morning, ain't got no home,\nNo use in worrying 'cause the world gone wrong.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, because the world done wrong.\n\nI told you, baby, right to your head,\nIf I didn't leave you, I would have to kill you dead.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, 'cause the world gone wrong.\n\nI tried to be loving and treat you kind,\nBut it seem like you're never right, you got no loyal mind.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, 'cause the world's gone wrong.\n\nIf you have a woman and she don't treat you kind,\nPraise the good lord to get her out of your mind.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, because the world gone wrong.\n\nSaid when you been good now, can't do no more,\nJust tell her kindly, \"There is the front door.\"\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, because the world's gone wrong.\n\nPack up my suitcase, give me my hat,\nNo use to ask me, baby, 'cause I'll never be back.\nI can't be good no more once like I did before,\nI can't be good, baby,\nHoney, because the world gone wrong."}
{"name": "Love Henry", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "\"Get down, get down, love Henry,\" she cried,\n\"And stay all night with me.\nI have gold chains and the finest I have,\nI'll apply them all to thee.\"\n\n\"I can't get down and I shan't get down\nOr stay all night with thee.\nSome pretty, little girl in Cornersville\nI love far better than thee.\"\n\nHe laid his head on a pillow of down,\nKisses she gave him three.\nWith a penny knife that she held in her hand\nShe murdered mortal he.\n\n\"Get well, get well, love Henry,\" she cried,\n\"Get well, get well,\" said she.\n\"Oh, don't you see my own heart's blood\nCome flowing down so free?\"\n\nShe took him by his long, yellow hair\nAnd also by his feet,\nShe plunged him into well water where\nIt runs both cold and deep.\n\n\"Lie there, lie there, love Henry,\" she cried,\n\"Till the flesh rots off your bones.\nSome pretty, little girl in Cornersville\nWill mourn for your return.\"\n\n\"Hush up, hush up, my parrot,\" she cried,\n\"Don't trill no news on me.\nOh, these costly beads around my neck\nI'll endow them onto thee.\"\n\n\"Fly down, fly down, pretty parrot,\" she cried,\n\"And light on my right knee.\nThe doors to your cage shall be decked with gold\nAnd hung on a willow tree.\"\n\n\"I won't fly down, I can't fly down,\nAnd light on your right knee.\nA girl who would murder her own, true love\nWould kill a little bird like me.\""}
{"name": "Ragged & Dirty", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Lord, I'm broke, I'm hungry, ragged and dirty too,\nBroke and hungry, ragged and dirty too,\nIf I clean up, sweet mama, can I stay all night with you?\n\nLord, I went to my window, babe, I couldn't see through my blinds,\nWent to my window, babe, I couldn't see through my blinds,\nHeard my best friend a-coming and I thought I heard my baby cry.\n\nLord, if I can't come in here, baby, then just let me sit down in your door,\nIf I can't come in here, baby, then just let me sit down in your door\nAnd I would leave so soon that your man won't never know.\n\nAh, how can I live here, baby, Lord, and feel at ease?\nHow can I live here, baby, Lord, and feel at ease?\nWell, that woman that I got, man, she does just what she feels.\n\nLord, you shouldn't mistreat me, baby, because I'm young and wild,\nShouldn't mistreat me, baby, because I'm young and wild,\nYou must always remember, baby, you was once a child.\n\n'Cause I'm leaving in the morning if I have to ride the blinds,\nLeaving in the morning if I have to ride the blinds,\nWell, I been mistreated and I swear I don't mind dying."}
{"name": "Blood in My Eyes", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Woke up this morning feeling blue,\nSeen a good-looking girl, can I make love with you?\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nI got blood in my eyes for you, baby,\nI don't care what in the world you do.\n\nI went back home, put on my tie,\nGonna get that girl that money will buy.\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nGot blood in my eyes for you, baby,\nI don't care what in the world you do.\n\nShe looked at me, begin to smile,\nSaid, \"Hey, hey, man, can't you wait a little while?\"\nNo, no, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nNo, no, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nGot blood in my eyes for you, baby,\nI don't care what in the world you do.\n\nNo, no, ma'am, I can't wait,\nYou got my money, now you're trying to break this date.\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nGot blood in my eyes for you, baby,\nI don't care what in the world you do.\n\nI tell you something, tell you the facts:\nYou don't want me, give my money back.\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nHey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,\nI got blood in my eyes for you, baby,\nI don't care what in the world you do."}
{"name": "Broke Down Engine", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Feel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no driving wheel,\nFeel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no driving wheel,\nYou all been down and lonesome, you know just how a poor man feels.\n\nBeen shooting craps and gambling, mama, and I done got broke,\nBeen shooting craps and gambling, mama, and I done got broke,\nI done pawned my pistol, baby, my best clothes been stoled.\n\nLordy, Lord!\nLordy, Lordy, Lord!\nLordy, Lordy, Lordy,\nLordy, Lord!\n\nI went down in my praying ground, fell on my bended knee,\nI went down in my praying ground, fell on my bended knee,\nI ain't crying for no religion, Lord, give me back my good gal please.\n\nIf you give me back my baby, I won't worry you no more,\nGive me back my baby, I won't worry you no more,\nDon't have to put her in my house, Lordy, just lead her to my door.\n\nLordy, Lord!\nLordy, Lordy, Lord!\nLordy, Lord!\nLordy, Lordy, Lord!\n\nCan't you hear me, baby, rapping on your door?\nCan't you hear me, baby, rapping on your door?\nTapping [incomprehensible], tapping across your floor.\n\nFeel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no drive at all,\nFeel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no drive at all,\nWhat make me love my woman she can really do the Georgia Crawl.\n\nFeel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no whistle or bell,\nFeel like a broke-down engine, ain't got no whistle or bell,\nIf you're a real hot mama, come and drive away Daddy's weeping spell."}
{"name": "Delia", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Delia was a gambling girl, gambled all around,\nDelia was a gambling girl, she laid her money down.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nDelia's dear mother took a trip out West.\nWhen she returned, little Delia had gone to rest.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nDelia's daddy weeped, Delia's mama moaned,\nWouldn't've been so bad if the poor girl died at home.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nCurtis looking high, Curtis looking low,\nHe shot poor Delia down with a cruel .44.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nHigh up on the housetops, high as I can see,\nLooking for them rounders looking out for me.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nMen in Atlanta trying to pass for white,\nDelia's in the graveyard, boys, six feet outta sight.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nJudge says to Curtis, \"What's this noise about?\"\n\"All about them rounders, judge, trying to cut me out.\"\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nCurtis said to the judge, \"What might be my fine?\"\nJudge says, \"Poor boy, you got ninety-nine.\"\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nCurtis in the jailhouse drinking from an old tin cup,\nDelia's in the graveyard, she might never, never get up.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nDelia, oh, Delia, how can it be?\nYou loved all them rounders, never did love me.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone.\n\nDelia, oh, Delia, how can it be?\nYou wanted all them rounders, never had time for me.\nAll the friends I ever had are gone."}
{"name": "Stack A Lee", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Hawlin Alley on a dark and drizzly night,\nBilly Lyons and Stack-A-Lee had one terrible fight.\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat.\n\nStack-A-Lee walked to the bar-room and he called for a glass of beer,\nTurned around to Billy Lyons, said, \"What are you doing here?\"\n\"Waiting for a train, please bring my woman home.\"\n\n\"Stack-A-Lee, oh, Stack-A-Lee, please don't take my life.\nGot three little children and a weeping, loving wife.\nYou're a bad man, bad man, Stack-A-Lee.\"\n\n\"God bless your children and I'll take care of your wife,\nYou stole my John B., now I'm bound to take your life.\"\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat.\n\nStack-A-Lee turned to Billy Lyons and he shot him right through the head,\nOnly taking one shot to kill Billy Lyons dead.\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat.\n\nSent for the doctor, well, the doctor, he did come,\nJust pointed out Stack-A-Lee, said, \"Now what have you done?\nYou're a bad man, bad man, Stack-A-Lee.\"\n\nSix big horses and a rubber-tired hack\nTaking him to the cemetery, but they failed to bring him back.\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat.\n\nHawlin Alley, I thought I heard a bulldog bark,\nMust've been old Stack-A-Lee stumbling in the dark.\nHe's a bad man, gonna land him right back in jail.\n\nHigh police walked on to Stack-A-Lee, he was lying fast asleep,\nHigh police get Stack-A-Lee and a-he jumped forty feet.\nHe's a bad man, gonna land him right back in jail.\n\nWell, they got old Stack-A-Lee and they lied him right back in jail,\nCouldn't get a man around to go Stack-A Lee's bail.\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat.\n\nStack-A-Lee turned to the jailer, he said, \"Jailer, I can't sleep,\n'Round my bedside Billy Lyons has began to creep.\"\nAll about that John B. Stetson hat."}
{"name": "Two Soldiers", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "He was just a blue-eyed Boston boy,\nHis voice was low with pain.\n\"I'll do your bidding, comrade mine,\nIf I ride back again.\nBut, if you ride back and I am left,\nYou'll do as much for me.\nMother, you know, must hear the news,\nSo write to her tenderly.\"\n\n\"She's waiting at home like a patient saint,\nHer fond face pale with woe.\nHer heart will be broken when I am gone,\nI'll see her soon, I know.\"\nJust then the order came to charge,\nFor an instant hand touched hand.\nThey said \"Aye\" and away they rode,\nThat brave and devoted band.\n\nStraight was the track to the top of the hill,\nThe rebels they shot and shelled,\nPlowed furrows of death through the toiling ranks\nAnd guarded them as they fell.\nThere soon came a horrible, dying yell\nFrom heights that they could not gain\nAnd those whom doom and death had spared\nRode slowly back again.\n\nBut among the dead that were left on the hill\nWas the boy with the curly hair.\nThe tall, dark man who rode by his side\nLay dead beside him there.\nThere's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl\nThe words that her lover had said.\nMama, you know, awaits the news\nAnd she'll only know he's dead."}
{"name": "Jack-A-Roe", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "Oh, there was a wealthy merchant, in London he did dwell,\nHe had a lovely daughter, the truth to you I'll tell,\nOh, the truth to you I'll tell.\n\nShe had sweethearts plenty and men of high degree,\nThere was none but Jackie Frazier, her true love e'er to be,\nOh, her true love e'er to be.\n\n\"Oh, daughter, oh, daughter, your body I will confine\nIf none but Jack the sailor would ever suit your mind,\nOh, would ever suit your mind.\"\n\n\"This body you may imprison, my heart you can't confine.\nThere's none but Jack the sailor would have this heart of mine,\nOh, would have this heart of mine.\"\n\nNow, Jack, he's gone a-sailing with trouble on his mind\nTo leave his native country and his darling girl behind,\nOh, his darling girl behind.\n\nShe went into the tailor shop and dressed in men's array,\nThen she went into the vessel to convey herself away,\nOh, convey herself away.\n\n\"Before you step on board, sir, your name I'd like to know.\"\nShe smiled all in her countenance, said, \"They call me Jack-A-Roe,\nOh, they call me Jack-A-Roe.\"\n\n\"Your waist is light and slender, your fingers neat and small,\nYour cheeks too red and rosy for to face the cannonball,\nOh, to face the cannonball.\"\n\n\"I know my waist is slender and my fingers, they are small,\nBut it would not make me tremble for to see ten thousand fall,\nOh, to see ten thousand fall.\"\n\nThe war soon being over, they hunted all around,\nAmong the dead and dying, her darling love she found,\nOh, her darling love she found.\n\nShe picked him up all in her arms and carried him to town\nAnd sent for a physician to quickly heal his wounds,\nOh, quickly, heal his wounds.\n\nThis couple, they got married, so well they did agree,\nThis couple they got married, so why not you and me?\nOh, so why not you and me?"}
{"name": "Lone Pilgrim", "album": "World Gone Wrong", "album_year": "1993", "text": "I came to the place where the lone pilgrim lay\nAnd pensively stood by his tomb\nWhen in a low whisper I heard something say,\n\"How sweetly I sleep here alone.\"\n\n\"The tempest may howl and the loud thunder roar\nAnd gathering storms may arise,\nBut calm is my feeling, at rest is my soul,\nThe tears are all wiped from my eyes.\"\n\n\"The calls of my master compelled me from home,\nNo kindred or relative nigh.\nI met the contagion and sank to the tomb,\nMy soul flew to mansions on high.\"\n\n\"Go tell my companion and children most dear\nTo weep not for me now I'm gone.\nThe same hand that led me through seas most severe\nHas kindly assisted me home.\""}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said our lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd I was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on my shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, I've paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when we first met, soon to be divorced,\nI helped her out of a jam, I guess, but I used a little too much force.\nWe drove that car as far as we could, abandoned it out west,\nSplit up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at me as I was a-walking away,\nI heard her say over my shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nI had a job in the Great North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut I never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nSo I drifted down to New Orleans where I lucky was to be employed,\nWorking for a while on a fishing boat right outside of Delacroix,\nBut all the while I was alone, the past was close behind,\nI seen a lot of women but she never escaped my mind and I just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"Don't I know your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"I thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the fifteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nThen he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it finally--the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, a-heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Changing of the Guards", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Sixteen years, sixteen banners united\nOver the fields where the good shepherd grieves,\nDesperate men, desperate women divided,\nSpreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves,\nFortune calls, I step forth from the shadows\nTo the marketplace, merchants and thieves hungry for power,\nMy last deal gone down, she's smelling sweet like the meadows\nWhere she was born on midsummer's eve near the tower.\n\nThe cold-blooded moon, the captain waits above the celebration,\nSending his thoughts to a beloved maid,\nWhose ebony face is beyond communication,\nThe captain is down, but still believing that his love will be repaid.\nThey shaved her head, she was torn between Jupiter and Apollo,\nA messenger arrived with a black nightingale,\nI seen her on the stairs and I couldn't help but follow--\nFollow her down past the fountain, where they lifted her veil.\n\nI struggled to my feet, I rode past destruction in the ditches\nWith the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo,\nRenegade priests and treacherous, young witches\nWere handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.\nThe palace of mirrors, where dog-soldiers are reflected,\nThe endless road and the wailing of chimes,\nThe empty rooms, where her memory is protected,\nWhere the angels' voices whisper to the souls of previous times.\n\nShe wakes him up forty-eight hours later, the sun is breaking\nNear broken chains, mountain laurel, and rolling rocks,\nShe's begging to know what measures he now will be taking,\nHe's pulling her down and she's clutching onto his long, golden locks.\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said, \"I don't need your organization,\nI've shined your shoes, I've moved your mountains and marked your cards,\nBut Eden is burning: either get ready for elimination\nOr else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards.\n\n\"Peace will come with tranquility and the splendor\nOn the wheels of fire, but will offer no reward\nWhere the false idols fall and cruel death surrenders\nWith its pale ghost retreating between the king and the queen of swords.\""}
{"name": "The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Prayed in the ghetto with my face in the cement,\nHeard the last moan of a boxer, seen the massacre of the innocent,\nFelt around for the light switch, felt around for her face,\nBeen treated like a farm animal on a wild-goose chase.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nTry to be pure at heart, they arrest you for robbery,\nMistake your shyness for aloofness, your silence for snobbery.\nGot the message this morning, the one that was sent to me\n'Bout the madness of becoming what one was never meant to be.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nDon't know what I could say about Claudette wouldn't come back to haunt me,\nFinally had to give her up 'bout the time she begin to want me,\nBut I know God has mercy on them who're slandered and humiliated,\nI'd a-done anything for that woman if she'd only made me feel obligated.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nPut your hand on my head, baby, do I have a temperature?\nI see people who're supposed to know better standing around like furniture,\nThere's a wall between you--what you want and you got to leap it:\nTonight you got the power to take it, tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar.\n\nCities on fire, phones outta order,\nThey're killing nuns and soldiers, there's fighting on the border.\nWhat can I say about Claudette? Ain't seen her since January.\nShe could be respectably married or running a whorehouse in Buenos Aires.\nWest of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,\nI see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age,\nSee the groom still waiting at the altar."}
{"name": "Hurricane", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Pistol-shots ring out in the barroom night,\nEnter Patty Valentine from the upper hall,\nShe sees a bartender in a pool of blood,\nCries out, \"My God, they've killed 'em all!\"\nHere comes the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nThree bodies lying there does Patty see\nAnd another man named Bello, moving around mysteriously.\n\"I didn't do it!\" he says and he throws up his hands,\n\"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand!\nI saw them leaving,\" he says and he stops,\n\"One of us had better call up the cops.\"\nAnd so Patty calls the cops\nAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.\n\nMeanwhile far away in another part of town,\nRubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,\nThe number one contender for the middleweight crown\nHad no idea what kind of shit was about to go down\nWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the road -\nJust like the time before and the time before that.\nIn Paterson, that's just the way things go:\nIf you're black, you might as well not show up on the street 'less you wanna draw the heat.\n\nAlfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops,\nHim and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around.\nHe said, \"I saw two men running out, they looked like middleweights,\nJumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.\"\nAnd Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head,\nCop said, \"Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead!\"\nSo they took him to the infirmary\nAnd, though this man could hardly see, they told him he could identify the guilty men.\n\nFour in the morning and they haul Rubin in,\nThey took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.\nThe wounded man looks up through his one, dying eye,\nSaid, \"Why'd you bring him in here for! He ain't the guy!\"\nHere's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nFour months later, the ghettoes are in flame,\nRubin's in South America, fighting for his name,\nWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game\nAnd the cops are putting the screws to him, looking for somebody to blame.\n\"Remember that murder that you--happened in a bar?\nRemember you said you saw the getaway car?\nThink you'd like to play ball with the law?\nThink it mighta been that fighter that you saw running that night? Don't forget that you are white.\"\n\nArthur Dexter Bradley said, \"I'm really not sure.\"\nThe cops said, \"A poor boy like you could use a break -\nWe got you for the motel job and you talking to your friend, Bello,\nIf you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.\nYou'll be doing society a favor,\nThat son-of-a-bitch is brave and getting braver.\nWe wanna put his ass in the stir,\nWe wanna pin this triple murder on him - he ain't no 'Gentleman Jim'.\"\n\nRubin could take a man out with just one punch,\nBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.\n\"It's my work,\" he'd say, \"and I do it for pay\nAnd, when it's over, just as soon go on my way\"--\nUp into some paradise\nWhere the trout streams flow and the air is nice\nAnd ride a horse along the trail,\nBut then they took him to the jailhouse, where they try to turn a man into a mouse.\n\nAll of Rubin's cards were marked in advance,\nThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance:\nThe judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums,\nTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum,\nAnd to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger,\nNo one doubted that he pulled the trigger,\nAnd, though they could not produce the gun,\nThe D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.\n\nRubin Carter was falsely tried,\nThe crime was murder one, guess who testified?\n--Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied,\nThe newspapers, they all went along for the ride.\nHow can the life of such a man\nBe in the palm of some fool's hand?\nTo see him obviously framed\nCouldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game.\n\nNow all the criminals in their coats and their ties\nAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise\nWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell,\nAn innocent man in a living hell.\nYes, that's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nBut it won't be over till they clear his name\nAnd give him back the time he's done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world."}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,\nMay you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "Jokerman", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Standing on the water, casting your bread\nWhile the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.\nDistant ships sailing in through the mist,\nYou were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.\nFreedom, just around the corner for you,\nBut, with the truth so far off, what good will it do?\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nSo swiftly the sun sets in the sky,\nYou rise up and say goodbye to no one.\nFools rush in where angels fear to tread,\nBoth of their futures so full of dread -- you don't show one.\nShedding off one more layer of skin,\nKeeping one step ahead from the persecutor within.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nYou're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,\nManipulator of crowds, you're a dream-twister.\nYou're going to Sodom and Gomorrah,\nBut what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister!\nFriend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,\nYou look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,\nThe law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.\nIn the smoke of the twilight, on a milk-white steed,\nMichelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.\nResting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,\nHalf asleep 'neath the stars with a small dog licking your face.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,\nPreacherman seeks the same -- who'll get there first is uncertain.\nNight-sticks and water-cannons, tear gas, padlocks,\nMolotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain.\nFalse-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,\nOnly a matter of time till night comes stepping in.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nIt's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,\nA woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet.\nHe'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,\nTake the motherless children off the street,\nAnd place them at the feet of a harlot.\nOh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,\nOh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman."}
{"name": "Dignity", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Fat man looking in a blade of steel,\nThin man looking at his last meal,\nHollow man looking in a cotton-field for dignity.\n\nWise man looking in a blade of grass,\nYoung man looking in the shadows that pass,\nPoor man looking through painted glass for dignity.\n\nSomebody got murdered on New Year's Eve,\nSomebody said dignity was the first to leave.\nI went into the city, went into the town,\nWent into the land of the midnight sun.\n\nSearching high, searching low,\nSearching everywhere I know,\nAsking the cops wherever I go,\n\"Have you seen dignity?\"\n\nBlind man breaking out of a trance,\nPuts his both hands in the pockets of chance\nHoping to find one circumstance of dignity.\n\nI went to the wedding of Mary-Lou,\nShe said, \"I don't want nobody see me talking to you,\"\nSaid she could get killed if she told me what she knew 'bout dignity.\n\nI went down where the vultures feed,\nI would've gone deeper, but there wasn't any need.\nHeard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men,\nWasn't any difference to me.\n\nChilly wind sharp as a razor blade,\nHouse on fire, debts unpaid,\nGonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid, \"Have you seen dignity?\"\n\nDrinking man listen to the voice he hears\nIn a crowded room full of covered-up mirrors,\nLooking into the lost, forgotten years for dignity.\n\nMet Prince Phillip at the home of the blues,\nSaid he'd give me information if his name wasn't used.\nHe wanted money up front, said he was abused by dignity.\n\nFootprints running 'cross a silver sand,\nSteps going down into tattoo land,\nI met the sons of darkness and the sons of light\nIn the border-towns of despair.\n\nGot no place to fade, got no coat,\nI'm on the rolling river in a jerking boat,\nTrying to read a note somebody wrote 'bout dignity.\n\nSick man looking for the doctor's cure,\nLooking at hands for the lines that were\nAnd into every masterpiece of literature for dignity.\n\nEnglishman stranded in the black-heart wind,\nCombing his hair back, his future looks thin,\nBites the bullet and he looks within for dignity.\n\nSomeone showed me a picture and I just laughed,\nDignity never been photographed!\nI went into the red, went into the black,\nInto the valley of dry-bone dreams.\n\nSo many roads, so much at stake,\nSo many dead-ends, I'm at the edge of the lake.\nSometimes I wonder what it's gonna take to find dignity."}
{"name": "Silvio", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Stake my future on a hell of a past,\nLooks like tomorrow is a-coming on fast,\nAin't complaining 'bout what I got,\nI seen better times, but who has not?\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nHonest as the next jade rolling that stone,\nWhen I come a-knocking, don't throw me no bone.\nI'm an old boll weevil looking for a home\nAnd, if you don't like me, you can leave me alone.\nI can snap my fingers and require the rain\nFrom a clear, blue sky and turn it off again,\nI can stroke your body and relieve your pain,\nCharm the whistle off an evening train.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nGive what I got until I got no more,\nI take what I gets and I even the score,\nYou know I love you and, furthermore,\nWhen it's time to go, you got an open door.\nI can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain,\nYou give something up for everything you gain.\nSince every pleasure's got an edge of pain,\nPay for your ticket and don't complain.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go,\nGo find out something only dead men know.\n\nOne of these days - and it won't be long -\nGoing down in the valley and sing my song.\nGonna sing it loud, sing it strong,\nLet the echo decide if I was right or wrong.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know.\n\nSilvio, silver and gold\nWon't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold,\nSilvio, I gotta go\nFind out something only dead men know."}
{"name": "Ring Them Bells", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Ring them bells, ye heathen, from the city that dreams,\nRing them bells from the sanctuaries cross the valleys and streams\nFor they're deep and they're wide and the world's on its side\nAnd time is running backwards and so is the bride.\n\nRing them bells, St. Peter, where the four winds blow,\nRing them bells with an iron hand so the people will know.\nOh, it's rush hour now on the wheel and the plow\nAnd the sun is a-going down upon the sacred cow.\n\nRing them bells, sweet Martha, for the poor man's son,\nRing them bells so the world will know that-a God is one.\nOh, the shepherd is asleep where the willows weep\nAnd the mountains are filled with lost sheep.\n\nRing them bells for the blind and the deaf,\nRing them bells for all of us who are left,\nRing them bells for the chosen few\nWho will judge the many when the game is through,\nRing them bells for the time that flies,\nFor the child that cries when the innocence dies.\n\nRing them bells, St. Catherine, from the top of the room,\nRing them from the fortress for the lilies that bloom.\nOh, the lines are long and the fighting is strong\nAnd they're breaking down the distance between a-right and wrong."}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "You may be an ambassador to England or France,\nYou may like to gamble, you might like to dance,\nYou may be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nYou may be a socialite with a long string of pearls,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a rock-and-roll addict prancing on the stage,\nMight have drugs at your command, women in a cage,\nYou may be a businessman or some high-degree thief,\nThey may call you \"doctor\" or they may call you \"chief\",\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a state trooper, you might be a Young Turk,\nMay be the head of some big TV network,\nYou may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a construction worker working on a home,\nMight be living in a mansion, you might live in a dome,\nYou may own guns and you may even own tanks,\nYou may be somebody's landlord, you may even own banks,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it a-may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a preacher preaching spiritual pride,\nMay be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,\nMay be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,\nYou may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMight like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,\nMight like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,\nMight like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,\nMay be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nNow, you may call me Terry or you may call me Timmy,\nYou may call me Bobby or you may call me Zimmy,\nYou may call me R.J., you may call me Ray,\nYou may call me anything, don't matter what you say,\nYou're still gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil and it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "Series of Dreams", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "I was thinking of a series of dreams\nWhere nothing comes up to the top,\nEverything stays down where it's wounded\nAnd comes to a permanent stop,\nWasn't thinking of anything specific\nLike in a dream when someone wakes up and screams,\nNothing too very scientific,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams.\n\nThinking of a series of dreams\nWhere the time and the tempo drag\nAnd there's no exit in any direction\n'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes,\nWasn't making any great connection,\nWasn't falling for any intricate scheme,\nNothing that would pass inspection,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nDreams where the umbrella is folded\nAnd into the path you are hurled\nAnd the cards are no good that you're holding\nUnless they're from another world.\n\nIn one the surface was frozen,\nIn another I witnessed a crime,\nIn one I was running and in another\nAll I seemed to be doing was climb,\nWasn't looking for any special assistance\nAnd not going through any great extreme,\nI'd already gone the distance,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nDreams where the umbrella is folded\nAnd into the path you are hurled\nAnd the cards are no good that you're holding\nUnless they're from another world.\nI'd already gone the distance,\nI's just thinking of a series of dreams,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams,\nJust thinking of a series of dreams."}
{"name": "Brownsville Girl", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Well, there was this movie I seen one time\nAbout a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck.\nHe was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself.\nThe townspeople wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.\n\nWell, the marshal, now, he beat that kid to a bloody pulp\nAs the dying gunfighter lay on the sun and gasped for his last breath.\n\"Turn him loose, let him go, let him say he outdrew me fair and square.\nI want him to feel what it's like to every moment face his death.\"\n\nWell, I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in\nAnd, you know, it blows right through me like a ball and chain.\nYou know, I can't believe we've lived so long and are still so far apart,\nThe memory of you keeps calling after me like a rolling train.\n\nI can still see the day you came to me on the painted desert\nIn your busted down Ford and your platform heels.\nI could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet -\nAh, but you were right, it was perfect as I got in behind the wheel.\n\nWell, we drove that car all night until we got into San Anton'\nAnd we slept near the Alamo - your skin was so tender and soft.\nWay down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back.\nI would have gone on after you, but I didn't feel like letting my head get blown off.\n\nWell, we're driving this car and the sun is coming up over the Rockies -\nNow, I know she ain't you, but she's here and she's got that dark rhythm in her soul,\nBut I'm too over the edge and I ain't in the mood anymore\nTo remember the times when I was your only man\nAnd she don't wanna remind me, she knows this car would go out of control.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nWell, we crossed the panhandle and then we headed towards Amarillo.\nWe pulled up where Henry Porter used to live -\nHe owned a wrecking lot outside of town about a mile.\nRuby was in the backyard hanging clothes, she had her red hair tied back,\nShe saw us come rolling up in a trail of dust.\nShe says, \"Henry ain't here, but you can come on in, he'll be back in a little while.\"\n\nThen she told us how times were tough \nAnd about how she was thinking of bumming a ride back to from where she started,\nBut she changed the subject every time money came up.\nShe said, \"Welcome to the land of the living dead\",\nBut you could tell she was so broken-hearted,\nShe said, \"Even the swap meets around here are getting pretty corrupt.\"\n\n\"How far are you all going?\" Ruby asked us with a sigh.\n\"We going all the way till the wheels fall off and burn,\nTill the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies.\"\nRuby just smiled and said, \"Ah, you know some babies never learn.\"\n\nSomething about that movie, though - but I just can't get it outta my head -\nBut I can't remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play.\nAll I remember about it was-is Gregory Peck and the way that people moved\nAnd a lot of 'em, they seemed to be looking my way.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nWell, they were looking for somebody with a pompadour,\nI was crossing the street when shots rang out.\nI didn't know whether to duck or to run, so I ran.\n\"We got him cornered in the churchyard!\" I heard somebody shout.\n\nWell, you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune,\nUnderneath it it said, \"A man with no alibi\".\nYou went out on a limb to testify for me, you said I was with you.\nThen, when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears,\nIt was the best acting I saw anybody do.\n\nNow, I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trespass,\nBut sometimes you just find yourself over the line.\nOh, if there's an original thought out there, I could use it right now,\nYou know, I feel pretty good, but that ain't saying much.\nI could feel a whole lot better\nIf you were just here by my side to show me how.\n\nWell, I'm standing in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck,\nYeah, but, you know, it's not the one that I had in mind.\nHe's got a new one out now, I don't even know what it's about,\nBut I'll see him in anything, so I'll stand in line.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love.\n\nYou know, it's funny how things never turn out the way you had 'em planned.\nThe only thing we knew for sure about Henry Porter \nIs that his name wasn't Henry Porter.\nAnd, you know, there was something about you, baby,\nThat I liked, that was always too good for this world.\nJust like you always said, there was something about me you liked \nThat I left in the French Quarter.\n\nStrange how people who suffer together have stronger connections \nThan people who are most content.\nI don't have any regrets - they can talk about me plenty when I'm gone.\nYou always said people don't do what they believe in,\nThey just do what's most convenient, then they repent.\nAnd I always said, \"Hang on to me, baby, and let's hope that the roof stays on.\"\n\nThere was a movie I seen one time - I think I sat through it twice,\nI don't remember who I was or where I was bound,\nAll I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck,\nHe wore a gun and he was shot in the back.\nSeems like a long time ago, long before the stars were torn down.\n\nBrownsville girl with your Brownsville curls,\nTeeth like pearls shining like the moon above,\nBrownsville girl, show me all around the world,\nBrownsville girl, you're my honey, love."}
{"name": "Under the Red Sky", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "There was a little boy and there was a little girl\nAnd they lived in an alley under the red sky,\nThere was a little boy and there was a little girl\nAnd they lived in an alley under the red sky.\n\nThere was an old man and he lived in the moon,\nOne summer's day he came passing by,\nThere was an old man and he lived in the moon\nAnd one day he came passing by.\n\nSomeday, little girl, everything for you is gonna be new,\nSomeday, little girl, you'll have a-a diamond as big as your shoe.\n\nLet the wind blow low, let the wind blow high,\nOne day the little boy and the little girl were both baked in a pie,\nLet the wind blow low and the wind blow high,\nOne day the little boy and little girl were baked in a pie.\n\nThis is the key to the kingdom and this is the town,\nThis is the blind horse that leads you around.\n\nLet the bird sing, let the bird fly,\nOne day the man in the moon went home and the river went dry,\nLet the bird sing, let the bird fly,\nMan in the moon went home and the river went dry."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume 3", "album_year": "1994", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black cloud is coming down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "Tombstone Blues", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "Well, sweet, pretty things, they're in bed now of course,\nCity fathers, they're trying to endorse\nReincarnation of Paul Revere's horse,\nBut the town has no need to be nervous.\n\nGhost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits\nTo Jezebel, the nun, she violently knits\nBald wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits\nAt the head of the Chamber of Commerce.\n\nMama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the hallway looking for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nHysterical bride in the penny arcade,\nScreaming, she moans that I've just been made,\nSends for the doctor, pulls down the shade,\nSays, \"My advice is not to let the boys in.\"\n\nWell, the medicine man comes, he shuffles inside,\nHe walks with a swagger and he says to the bride,\n\"Stop all this weeping and swallow your pride,\nYou will not die, it's not poison!\"\n\nMama's in the factory, ain't got no shoe,\nDaddy's in the alley looking for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues.\n\nWhere Ma Rainey and Beethoven unwrapped their bedroll,\nTuba players now rehearse around the flagpole\nAnd the National Bank at a profit sells road-maps to the soul\nTo the old folks' home and the college.\n\nI wish I could write you a melody so plain,\nPraise you, dear lady, from going insane,\nStop this weeping, this useless pain\nOf your useless and pointless knowledge.\n\nMama's in the factory, ain't got no shoes,\nDaddy's in the hallway looking for the fuze,\nI'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues."}
{"name": "Shooting Star", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "I seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of you,\nYou're trying to break into another world, a world I never knew.\nAlways kinda wondered if you ever made it through.\nI seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of you.\n\nI seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of me.\nWas I still the same? Had I ever became what you wanted me to be?\nDid I miss the mark, overstep the line that only you could see?\nI seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of me.\n\nListen to the engine, listen to the bell\nAs the last fire-truck from hell\nGoes rolling by, all good people are praying.\nIt's the last temptation, the last account,\nLast time you would hear the sermon on the mount,\nThe last radio is playing.\n\nI seen a shooting star tonight slip away,\nTomorrow's gonna be another day.\nGuess it's too late to say the things to you that you needed to hear me say.\nI seen a shooting star tonight slip away."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "\"There must be some way out of here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine and plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There's many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.\nYou and I, we've been through that, this is not our fate.\nLet us not talk falsely now, you know the hour's getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nAll the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl, oh!"}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "Come gather round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nKeep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nDon't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they-they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall.\nHe that gets hurt will be he who has stalled,\nThere's a battle outside and it's raging,\nIt'll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nDon't criticize what you can't understand,\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get outta the new one if you can't lend a hand\nFor your times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn and the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past,\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "John Brown", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore,\nHis mama sure was proud of him.\nHe stood so straight and tall in his uniform and all,\nHis mama's face broke out into a grin.\n\n\"Oh, son, you look so fine, I'm glad you're a son of mine,\nMake me proud to know you wear the gun.\nDo what the captain says, lotta medals you will get,\nWe'll put 'em on the wall when you get home.\"\n\nThat old train pulled out, John's ma began to shout,\nTelling everybody in the neighborhood,\n\"That's my son that's about to go, he's a soldier now, you know?\"\nShe made well sure her neighbors understood.\n\nShe got a letter once in a while, her face broke into a smile,\nShe showed 'em to the people from next door.\nThey bragged about her son with his uniform and gun\nIn this thing she called a good, old-fashioned war.\n\nThen the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come,\nCeased to come for about ten months or more.\nThen, when a letter finally came, saying, go down and meet the train,\nYour son is coming back from the war.\n\nShe smiled and she went right down, she looked up and all around,\nShe did not see her soldier son in sight.\nWhen all the people passed, she saw her son at last.\nWhen she did, she could not believe her eyes.\n\nOh, his face was all shot off and his hands were blown away\nAnd he wore a metal brace around his waist.\nHe whispered kind of slow in a voice she didn't know\nAnd she couldn't even recognize his face.\n\n\"Oh, tell me, my darling son, tell me what they've done.\nHow is it that you've come to be this way?\"\nHe tried his best to talk, but his mouth could hardly move\nAnd his mother had to turn her face away.\n\n\"Don't you remember, ma, when I went off to war,\nYou thought it was the best thing I could do?\nI was on the battleground, you were home acting proud,\nYou wasn't there standing in my shoes.\"\n\n\"Well, I thought when I was there, Lord, what am I doing here\nTrying to kill somebody or die trying?\nBut the thing that scared me most, when my enemy came close,\nI could see that his face looked just like mine.\"\n\n\"And I could not help but think through the thunder-rolling stink\nThat I was just a puppet in a play\nAnd through the roar and smoke the string, it finally broke\nAnd a cannonball blew my eyes away.\"\n\nAs he turned away to go, his mother was acting slow\nSeeing the metal brace that helped him stand,\nBut, as he turned to leave, he called his mother close\nAnd he dropped his medals down into her hand."}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "They'll stone you when you're trying to be so good,\nStone you just like they said they would,\nStone you and they'll say that it's the end,\nStone you, they'll be back again.\nI would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're at the breakfast table,\nStone you when you are young and able,\nStone you and say good luck,\nStone you just like you got hit by a truck,\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone and they'll be back for more,\nStone you and then they'll close the door,\nStone you and say that it's the end,\nStone you and they'll be back again.\nI would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "Desolation Row", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown,\nThe beauty parlor's filled with sailors, the circus is in town.\nHere comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance,\nOne hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants.\nAnd the riot squad, they're restless, they need somewhere to go\nAs Lady and I look out tonight from Desolation Row.\n\nCinderella, she seems so easy. \"It takes one to know one,\" she smiles,\nPuts her hands in her back pocket Bette Davis-style.\nIn comes Romeo, he's moaning, \"You belong to me, I believe.\"\nSomeone turns and says, \"You're in the wrong room, my friend, you'd better hurry up and leave.\"\nAnd the only sound that's left after the ambulances go\nIs Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row.\n\nNow, the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide,\nThe fortune-telling lady has even taken all her things inside.\nAll except for Cain and Abel and the Hunchback of Notre Dame,\nEveryone is either making love or else expecting rain.\nAnd the Good Samaritan, he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show.\nHe's going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row.\n\nNow, Ophelia, she's 'neath the window, for her I feel so afraid,\nOn her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid.\nTo her death is quite romantic, she wears an iron vest,\nHer profession is her religion, her sin is her lifelessness.\nAnd, though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow,\nShe spends her time peeking into Desolation Row.\n\nAcross the street they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready for the feast,\nThe Phantom of the Opera in the perfect image of a priest.\nThey're spoon-feeding Casanova, get him to feel more assured,\nThen they'll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words.\nAnd the Phantom is shouting to skinny girls, \"Get outta here if you don't know\nCasanova, he's just being punished for going to Desolation Row!\"\n\nNow, at midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew\nCome out and round up everyone that knows more than they do.\nThen they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine\nIs strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene\nIs brought down from the castles by insurance men who go\nCheck to see that no one is escaping Desolation Row.\n\nYes, I received your letter yesterday 'bout the time that the door knob broke.\nWhen you asked me how I was doing, was that some kinda joke?\nAll these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame,\nI had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name.\nRight now I can't read too good, don't send me no more letters, no!\nNot unless you mail them from Desolation Row."}
{"name": "Dignity", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "Fat man looking in a blade of steel,\nThin man looking at his last meal,\nHollow man looking in a cotton-field for dignity.\n\nWise man looking in a blade of grass,\nYoung man looking in the shadows that pass,\nPoor man looking through painted glass for dignity.\n\nSomebody got murdered on New Year's Eve,\nSomeone said that Dignity was the first to leave.\nI went into the city, into the town,\nInto the land of the midnight sun.\n\nSearching high, searching low,\nSearching everywhere I know,\nAsking the cops wherever I go,\n\"Have you seen dignity?\"\n\nBlind man breaking out of a trance,\nPuts both of his hands in the pockets of chance\nHoping to find one circumstance of dignity.\n\nI went to the wedding of Mary-Lou,\nShe said, \"I don't want nobody see me talking to you,\"\nSaid she could get killed if she told me what she knew about dignity.\n\nI went down where the vultures feed,\nI would've gone deeper, but there wasn't any need.\nI've heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men\nAnd there wasn't any difference to me.\n\nChilly wind sharp as a razor blade,\nHouse on fire, debts unpaid,\nGonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid, \"Have you seen dignity?\"\n\nDrinking man listens to the voice he hears\nIn a crowded room full of covered-up mirrors,\nLooking into the lost, forgotten years for dignity.\n\nI met Prince Phillip at the home of the blues,\nSaid he'd give me information if his name wasn't used.\nHe wanted money up front, he said he'd been abused by dignity.\n\nFootprints running 'cross a silver sand,\nSteps going down into tattoo land,\nI met the sons of darkness and the sons of light\nIn the border-towns of despair.\n\nGot no place to fade, got no coat,\nI'm on a rolling river in a jerking boat,\nTrying to read a letter to me somebody wrote about dignity.\n\nSick man looking for the doctor's cure,\nLooking at his hands for the lines that were\nAnd into every masterpiece of literature for dignity.\n\nEnglishman stranded in a black-heart wind,\nCombing his hair back, his future looks thin,\nHe bites the bullet and he looks within for dignity.\n\nSomeone showed me a picture, I just had to laugh,\nDignity never been photographed!\nI went into the red, went into the black,\nWent into the valley of dry-bone dreams.\n\nSo many roads, so much at stake,\nSo many dead-ends, and I'm at the edge of the lake.\nSometimes I wonder what it's gonna take to find dignity."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see\nAnd I feel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nJust like so many times before.\n\nMama, wipe the blood outta my face,\nI just can't see through it anymore.\nGot a long, black feeling and it's hard to trace\nAnd I feel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nJust like so many times before.\n\nMama, lay my guns into the ground,\nI just can't fight 'em anymore.\nThat long, black train is pulling on down\nAnd I feel like I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nJust like so many times before."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "We're gonna start this again, the band was way ahead of me. [incomprehensible] We're gonna tune, we're gonna tune these instruments too.\n\nOnce upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't seem so proud\n'Bout having to be scrounging for your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nYou gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you wanna make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nYou never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down to do tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou should never let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he's taken anything he can steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nPrincess on the steeple and all pretty people\nDrinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts and things,\nBut take your diamond ring down and pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you and you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "With God on Our Side", "album": "MTV Unplugged", "album_year": "1995", "text": "Oh, my name, it ain't nothing, my age, it means less,\nThe country I come from is called the Midwest,\nI was born and brought up there all the laws to abide\nAnd that the land that I live in has God on its side.\n\nNow, the history books tell it, they tell it so well:\nThe cavalries charged, then the Indians fell,\nThe cavalries charged, then the Indians died.\nOh, the country was young with God on its side.\n\nNow, the Spanish-American War had its day,\nThen the Civil War too was soon laid away\nAnd the names of the heroes I was made to memorize\nWith guns in their hands and God on their side.\n\nThe First World War, boys, it came and it went,\nThe reason for fighting I never did get,\nBut I learned to accept it, accept it with pride\nFor you don't count the dead when God's on your side.\n\nBut now we've got weapons of a-chemical dust,\nIf fire them we're forced to, then fire them we must,\nOne push of the button, then a shot the world wide,\nAnd you never ask questions when God's on your side.\n\nThrough many a dark hour I've been thinking about this,\nThat Jesus Christ was betrayed by a kiss,\nBut I can't think for you, you'll have to decide\nWhether Judas Iscariot had God on his side.\n\nSo, now as I'm leaving, I'm weary as hell,\nThe confusion I'm feeling ain't no tongue can tell,\nThe words fill my head and they fall to the floor,\nThat, if God is on our side, He'll stop the next war."}
{"name": "Love Sick", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "I'm walking through streets that are dead,\nWalking-walking with you in my head,\nMy feet are so tired, my brain is so wired, and the clouds are weeping.\n\nDid I hear someone tell a lie?\nDid I hear someone's distant cry?\nI spoke like a child, you destroyed me with a smile while I was sleeping.\n\nI'm sick of love, that I'm in the thick of it,\nThis kind of love, I'm so sick of it.\n\nI see-I see lovers in the meadow,\nI see-I see silhouettes in the window,\nI watch them till they're gone and they leave me hanging on to the shadow.\n\nI'm sick of love, I hear the clock tick,\nThis kind of love, I-I'm lovesick.\n\nSometimes the silence can be like thunder,\nSometimes I wanna take to the road and plunder.\nCould you ever be true? I think of you and I wonder.\n\nI'm sick of love, I wish I'd never met you,\nI'm sick of love, I'm trying to forget you.\n\nJust don't know what to do,\nI'd give anything to be with you."}
{"name": "Dirt Road Blues", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "Gon' walk down that dirt road till someone lets me ride,\nGon' walk down that dirt road till someone lets me ride,\nIf I can't find my baby, I'm gonna run away and hide.\n\nWell, I been pacing 'round the room hoping maybe she'd come back,\nPacing 'round the room hoping maybe she'd come back,\nWell, I been praying for salvation, laying 'round in a one-room country-shack.\n\nGon' walk down that dirt road until my eyes begin to bleed,\nGon' walk down that dirt road until my eyes begin to bleed,\nTill there's nothing left to see, till the chains have been shattered and I've been freed.\n\nWell, I been looking at my shadow, I been watching the clouds up above,\nLooking at my shadow, watching the clouds up above,\nRolling through the rain and hail, looking for the sunny side of love.\n\nGon' walk on that dirt road till everything becomes the same,\nGon' walk down that road till everything becomes the same,\nGonna keep on walking till I hear her holler out my name."}
{"name": "Standing in the Doorway", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "I'm a-walking through the summer nights, the jukebox playing low,\nYesterday everything was going too fast, today it's moving too slow.\nI got no place left to turn,\nI got nothing left to burn.\nDon't know if I saw you if I would kiss you or kill you,\nIt probably wouldn't matter to you anyhow.\nYou left me standing in the doorway crying,\nI got nothing to go back to now.\n\nThe light in this place is so bad, making me sick in the head,\nAll the laughter is just making me sad, the stars have turned cherry-red.\nI'm strumming on my gay guitar,\nSmoking a cheap cigar.\nThe ghost of our old love has not gone away,\nDon't look it--like it will anytime soon.\nYou left me standing in the doorway crying\nUnder the midnight moon.\n\nMaybe they'll get me and maybe they won't, but not tonight and it won't be here,\nThere are things I could say but I don't, I know the mercy of God must be near.\nI been riding the midnight train,\nGot ice water in my veins.\nI would be crazy if I took you back,\nIt would go up against every rule.\nYou left me standing in the doorway crying,\nSuffering like a fool.\n\nWhen the last rays of daylight go down, buddy, you'll roll no more,\nI can hear the church-bells ringing in the yard, I wonder who they're ringing for.\nI know I can't win,\nBut my heart just won't give in.\nLast night I danced with a stranger,\nBut she just reminded me you were the one.\nYou left me standing in the doorway crying\nIn the dark land of the sun.\n\nI'll eat when I'm hungry, drink when I'm dry, and live my life on the square,\nAnd, even if the flesh falls off of my face, I know someone will be there to care.\nIt always means so much,\nEven the softest touch.\nI see nothing to be gained by any explanation,\nThere's no words that need to be said.\nYou left me standing in the doorway crying,\nBlues wrapped around my head."}
{"name": "Million Miles", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "You took a part of me that I really miss,\nI keep asking myself how long it can go on like this.\nYou told yourself a lie, that's alright, mama, I told myself one too.\nI'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nYou took the silver, you took the gold,\nYou left me standing out in the cold.\nPeople'd ask about you, I didn't tell 'em everything I knew.\nWell, I'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nI'm drifting in and out of dreamless sleep,\nThrowing all my memories in a ditch so deep.\nDid so many things I never did intend to do.\nWell, I'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nI need your love so bad, turn your lamp down low,\nI need every bit of it for the places that I go.\nSometimes I wonder to just--what it's all coming to.\nWell, I'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nWell, I don't dare close my eyes and I don't dare wink,\nMaybe in the next life I'll be able to hear myself think.\nFeel like talking to somebody, but I just don't know who.\nWell, I'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nYes, the last thing you said before you hit the street,\n\"Gonna find me a janitor to sweep me off my feet.\" \nI said, \"That's alright, mama, you-you do what you gotta do.\"\nWell, I'm trying to get closer, I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nRock me, pretty baby, rock me all at once,\nRock me for a little while, rock me for a couple of months,\nAnd I'll rock you too.\nI'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you.\n\nWell, there's voices in the night trying to be heard,\nI'm sitting here listening to every mind-polluting word.\nI know plenty of people put me up for a day or two.\nYes, I'm trying to get closer, but I'm still a million miles from you."}
{"name": "Tryin' to Get to Heaven", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "The air is getting hotter,\nThere's a rumbling in the skies,\nI've been wading through the high, muddy water\nWith the heat rising in my eyes.\nEvery day your memory grows dimmer,\nIt doesn't haunt me like it did before.\nI've been walking through the middle of nowhere,\nTrying to get to heaven before they close the door.\n\nWhen I was in Missouri,\nThey would not let me be.\nI had to leave there in a hurry,\nI only saw what they let me see.\nYou broke a heart that loved you,\nNow you can seal up the book and not write anymore.\nI've been walking that lonesome valley,\nTrying to get to heaven before they close the door.\n\nPeople on the platforms\nWaiting for the trains,\nI can hear their hearts a-beating\nLike pendulums swinging on chains.\nWhen you think that you've lost everything,\nYou find out you can always lose a little more.\nI'm just going down the road feeling bad,\nTrying to get to heaven before they close the door.\n\nI'm going down the river,\nDown to New Orleans.\nThey tell me everything is gonna be alright,\nBut I don't know what \"alright\" even means.\nI was riding in a buggy with Ms. Mary-Jane -\nMs. Mary-Jane got a house in Baltimore.\nI've been all around the world, boys,\nNow I'm trying to get to heaven before they close the door.\n\nGonna sleep down in the parlor\nAnd relive my dreams.\nI close my eyes and I wonder\nIf everything is as hollow as it seems.\nSome trains don't pull no gamblers,\nNo midnight ramblers like they did before.\nI've been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down,\nNow I'm trying to get to heaven before they close the door."}
{"name": "'Til I Fell in Love with You", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "Well, my nerves are exploding and my body's tense,\nI feel like the whole world got me pinned up against the fence.\nI've been hit too hard, I seen too much,\nNothing can heal me now but your touch.\nI just don't know what I'm gonna do,\nI was alright till I fell in love with you.\n\nWell, my house is on fire, burning to the sky,.\nWell, I thought it would rain, but the clouds passed by.\nNow, I feel like I'm coming to the end of my way,\nBut I know God is my shield and he won't lead me astray.\nStill I don't know what I'm gonna do,\nI was alright till I fell in love with you.\n\nBoys in the street beginning to play,\nGirls like birds fly away.\nWhen I'm gone, you will remember my name,\nI'm gonna win my way to wealth and to fame.\nYet I just don't know what I'm gonna do,\nI was alright till I fell in love with you.\n\nWell, junk's piling up, taking up space,\nMy eyes feel like they're falling off my face.\nSweat pouring down, I'm staring at the floor,\nI'm thinking about that girl who won't be back no more.\nI just don't know what to do,\nI was alright till I fell in love with you.\n\nWell, I'm tired of talking, I'm tired of trying to explain,\nMy attempts to please you, they were all in vain.\nTomorrow night, before the sun goes down,\nIf I'm still among the living, I'll be Dixie-bound.\nStill I just don't know what I'm gonna do,\nI was alright till I fell in love with you."}
{"name": "Not Dark Yet", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "Shadows are falling and I've been here all day,\nIt's too hot to sleep and time is running away.\nFeel like my soul has turned into steel,\nI've still got the scars that the sun did not heal.\nThere's not even room enough to be anywhere,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, my sense of humanity has gone down the drain,\nBehind every beautiful thing there's been some kinda pain.\nShe wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind,\nShe put down in writing what was in her mind.\nI just don't see why I should even care,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, I've been to London and I've been to gay Paris,\nI've followed the river and I got to the sea.\nI've been down on the bottom of a world full of lies,\nI ain't looking for nothing in anyone's eyes.\nSometimes my burden is more than I can bear,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nI was born here and I'll die here against my will,\nI know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.\nEvery nerve in my body is so vacant and numb,\nI can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from.\nDon't even hear a murmur of a prayer,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there."}
{"name": "Cold Irons Bound", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "I'm beginning to hear voices and there's no one around,\nNow, I'm all used up and the fields've turned brown.\nI went to church on Sunday and she passed by,\nWell, my love for her has taken such a long time to die.\nNow, I'm waist deep, waist deep in the mist,\nIt's almost like-almost like I don't exist.\nI'm twenty miles outta town, Cold Irons bound.\n\nWell, the walls of pride are high and wide,\nCan't see over to the other side.\nIt's such a sad thing to see beauty decay,\nIt's sadder still to feel your heart torn away.\nOne look at you and I'm out of control,\nLike the universe has swallowed me whole.\nI'm twenty miles outta town and Cold Irons bound.\n\nThere's too many people, too many to recall,\nI thought some of 'em were friends of mine, I was wrong about 'em all.\nWell, the road is rocky and the hillside's mud,\nUp over my head nothing but clouds of blood.\nI found my world, found my world in you,\nBut your love just hasn't proved true.\nI'm twenty miles outta town, Cold Irons bound,\nTwenty miles outta town, Cold Irons bound.\n\nNow, the winds in Chicago have torn me to shreds,\nReality has always had too many heads.\nSome things last longer than you think they will,\nSome kinda things you can never kill.\nWell, it's you and you only I've been thinking about,\nBut you can't see in and I--it's hard looking out.\nI'm twenty miles outta town and Cold Irons bound.\n\nWell, the fat's in the fire and the water's in the tank,\nWell, the whiskey's in the jar and the money's in the bank.\nI tried to love and protect you because I cared,\nI'm gon' remember forever the joy we've shared.\nLooking at you and I'm on my bended knee,\nYou have no idea what you do to me.\nI'm twenty miles outta town, Cold Irons bound,\nTwenty miles outta town, Cold Irons bound."}
{"name": "Make You Feel My Love", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "When the rain is blowing in your face\nAnd the whole world is on your case,\nI could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love.\n\nWhen the evening shadows and the stars appear\nAnd there is no one there to dry your tears,\nI could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love.\n\nI know you haven't made your mind up yet,\nBut I would never do you wrong.\nI've known it from the moment that we met,\nNo doubt in my mind where you belong.\n\nI'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue,\nI'd go crawling down the avenue,\nNo, there's nothing that I wouldn't do to make you feel my love.\n\nThe storms are raging on the rolling sea\nAnd on the highway of regret,\nThe winds of change are blowing wild and free,\nYou ain't seen nothing like me yet.\n\nI could make you happy, make your dreams come true,\nNothing that I wouldn't do,\nGo to the ends of the earth for you to make you feel my love."}
{"name": "Can't Wait", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "I can't wait, wait for you to change your mind,\nIt's late, I'm trying to walk the line.\nWell, it's way past midnight and there's a-people all around,\nSome on their way up, some on their way down,\nThe air burns and I'm trying to think straight,\nAnd I don't know how much longer I can wait.\n\nI'm your man, I'm trying to recover the sweet love that we knew.\nYou understand that my heart can't go on beating without you.\nWell, your loveliness has wounded me, I'm a-reeling from the blow,\nI wish I knew what it was keeps me loving you so.\nI'm breathing hard, standing at the gate,\nOh, but I don't know how much longer I can wait.\n\nSkies are gray, I'm looking for anything that'll bring a happy glow,\nNight or day, it doesn't matter where I go anymore, I just go.\nIf I ever saw you coming, I don't know what I might do,\nI'd like to think I could control myself, but it isn't true.\nThat's how it is when things disintegrate,\nAnd I don't know how much longer I can wait.\n\nI'm doomed to love you, I've been rolling through stormy weather.\nI'm thinking of you and all the places we could roam together.\n\nIt's mighty funny, the end of time has just begun,\nOh, honey, after all these years you're still the one.\nWell, I'm strolling through the lonely graveyard of my mind,\nI left my life with you somewhere back there along the line,\nI thought somehow that I would be spared this fate.\nI don't know how much longer I can wait."}
{"name": "Highlands", "album": "Time Out of Mind", "album_year": "1997", "text": "Well, my heart's in the Highlands, gentle and fair,\nHoneysuckle blooming in the wild-wood air,\nBluebells blazing where the Aberdeen waters flow.\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands, I'm gonna go there when I feel good enough to go.\n\nWindows were shaking all night in my dreams,\nEverything was exactly the way that it seems.\nWoke up this morning and I looked at the same old page,\nSame old rat race, life in the same old cage.\n\nI don't want nothing from anyone, ain't that much to take,\nWouldn't know the difference between a real blonde and a fake.\nFeel like a prisoner in a world of mystery,\nI wish someone'd come and push back the clock for me.\n\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands wherever I roam,\nThat's where I'll be when I get called home.\nThe wind, it whispers to the buckeye trees in rhyme,\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands, I can only get there one step at a time.\n\nI'm listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound,\nSomeone's always yelling, \"Turn it down!\"\nFeel like I'm drifting, drifting from scene to scene,\nI'm wondering what in the devil could it all possibly mean.\n\nInsanity is smashing up against my soul,\nYou can say I was on anything but a roll.\nIf I had a conscience, well, I just might blow my top.\nWhat would I do with it anyway? Maybe take it to the pawn shop.\n\nMy heart's in the Highlands at the break of dawn\nBy the beautiful lake of the Black Swan,\nBig, white clouds like chariots that swing down low.\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands, only place left to go.\n\nI'm in Boston town in some restaurant,\nI got no idea what I want -\nOr maybe I do, but I'm just really not sure.\nWaitress comes over, nobody in the place but me and her.\n\nWell, it must be a holiday, there's nobody around,\nShe studies me closely as I sit down.\nShe got a pretty face and long, white, shiny legs.\nI say, \"Tell me what I want.\" She say, \"You probably want hard-boiled eggs.\"\n\nI say, \"That's right, bring me some.\"\nShes says, \"We ain't got any, you picked the wrong time to come.\"\nThen she says, \"I know you're an artist. Draw a picture of me.\"\nI said, \"I would if I could, but I don't do sketches from memory.\"\n\nWell, she's there, she says, \"I'm right here in front of you - or haven't you looked?\"\nI say, \"Alright, I know, but I don't have my drawing book.\"\nShe gives me a napkin, she say, \"You can do it on that.\"\nI say, \"Yes, I could, but I don't know where my pencil is at.\"\n\nShe pulls one out from behind her ear,\nShe says, \"Alright, now, go ahead, draw me, I'm staying right here.\"\nI make a few lines and I show it for her to see.\nWell, she takes the napkin and throws it back and says, \"That don't look a thing like me.\"\n\nI said, \"Oh, kind miss, it most certainly does.\"\nShe say, \"You must be joking.\" I said, \"I wish I was.\"\nThen, she says, \"You don't read women authors, do you?\" At least that's what I think I hear her say.\nWell, I say, \"How would you know and what would it matter anyway?\"\n\nWell, she says, \"You just don't seem,like you do.\" I said, \"You're way wrong.\"\nShe says, \"Which ones have you read then?\" I say, \"I've read Erica Jong.\"\nShe goes away for a minute and I slide out outta my chair,\nI step outside back to the busy street, but nobody's going anywhere.\n\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands with the horses and hounds,\nWay up in the border country far from the towns,\nWith the twang of the arrow and the snap of the bow.\nMy heart's in the Highlands, can't see any other way to go.\n\nEvery day is the same thing, out the door,\nFeel further away than ever before.\nSome things in life, it just gets too late to learn.\nWell, I'm lost somewhere, I must've made a few bad turns.\n\nI see people in the park forgetting their troubles and woes,\nThey're drinking and dancing, wearing bright-colored clothes,\nAll the young men with the young women looking so good.\nWell, I'd trade places with any of 'em in a minute if I could.\n\nI'm crossing the street to get away from a mangy dog,\nTalking to myself in a monologue.\nI think what I need might be a full-length leather coat.\nSomebody just asked me if I've registered to vote.\n\nThe sun is beginning to shine on me,\nBut it's not like the sun that used to be.\nThe party's over and there's less and less to say,\nI got new eyes, everything looks far away.\n\nWell, my heart's in the Highlands at the break of day,\nOver the hills and far away,\nThere's a way to get there and I'll figure it out somehow,\nBut I'm already there in my mind and that's good enough for now."}
{"name": "She Belongs to Me", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back,\nShe can take the dark out of the nighttime and paint the daytime black.\n\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nYou will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees,\nBut you will wind up peeking through her keyhole down upon your knees.\n\nShe never stumbles, she got no place to fall,\nShe never stumbles, she got no place to fall,\nShe's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.\n\nShe wears an Egyptian red ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe wears an Egyptian red ring, it sparkles before she speaks,\nShe's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.\n\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nBow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes,\nFor Halloween give her a trumpet and for Christmas buy her a drum."}
{"name": "4th Time Around", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "When she said, \"Don't waste your words, they're just lies,\" I cried she was deaf\nAs she worked on my face till breaking my eyes, then said, \"What else you got left?\"\nIt was then that I got up to leave, but she said, \"Don't forget,\nEverybody must give something back for something they get.\"\n\nI stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum, I asked her, \"How come?\"\nAnd she buttoned her boot and straightened her suit, then she said, \"Don't get cute.\"\nSo I forced my hands in my pockets and felt with my thumbs\nAnd gallantly handed her my very last piece of gum.\n\nShe threw me outside, I stood in the dirt where everyone walked,\nAnd, after finding that I'd forgotten my shirt, I went back and knocked.\nI waited in the hallway, she went to get it, and I tried to make sense\nOut of that picture of you in your wheelchair that leaned up against -\n\nHer Jamaican rum and, when she did come, I asked her for some.\nShe said, \"No, dear.\" I said, \"Your words aren't clear, you better spit out your plum.\"\nShe screamed till her face got so red, then she fell on the floor,\nAnd I covered her up and then thought I'll go look through her drawer.\n\nAnd when I was through, I filled up my shoe and brought it to you.\nAnd you--you took me in, you loved me then, you never wasted time.\nAnd I--I never took much, I never asked for your crutch, now don't ask for mine."}
{"name": "Visions of Johanna", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?\nWe sit here stranded though we all do our best to deny it\nAnd Louise holds a handful of rain tempting you to defy it.\nLights flicker from the opposite loft,\nIn this room the heat-pipes just cough,\nThe country music station plays soft,\nBut there's nothing, really nothing to turn off,\nJust Louise and her lover so entwined\nAnd these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.\n\nIn the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key-chain\nAnd the all-night girls, they whisper of escapades out on the D train,\nWe can hear the night watchman click his flashlight, ask himself if it's him or them who should be insane.\nBut Louise, she's alright, she's just near,\nShe's delicate, she seems like the mirror,\nBut she just makes it all too concise and too clear\nThat Johanna's not here.\nThe ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face\nWhere these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.\n\nLittle boy lost, he takes himself so seriously,\nHe brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously,\nAnd, when bringing her name up, he speaks of her farewell kiss to me.\nHe's sure got a lot of gall\nTo be so useless and all,\nMuttering small talk at the wall\nWhile I'm in the hall.\nOh, how can I explain? It's so hard to get on\nAnd these visions of Johanna, they've kept me up past the dawn.\n\nInside the museums infinity's going up on trial,\nVoices echo, \"This is what salvation must be like after a while\",\nBut Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles.\nSee the primitive wallflower freeze\nWhen the jelly-faced women all sneeze,\nHear the one with the mustache say, \"Jeez,\nI can't find my knees.\"\nJewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule,\nBut these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.\n\nThe peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him,\nSaying, \"Name me somebody that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him.\"\nBut, like Louise always says, \"You can't look at much, can you, man?\" as she herself prepares for him.\nAnd Madonna, she still has not showed,\nWe see this empty cage now corrode\nWhere her cape of the stage once had flowed,\nThe fiddler, he now steps to the road,\nHe writes, \"Everything's been returned which was owed\"\nOn the back of the fish truck that loads\nWhile my conscience explodes.\nThe harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain\nAnd these visions of Johanna are now all that remain."}
{"name": "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last,\nBut whatever you wish to keep, you'd better grab it fast,\nYonder stands your orphan with his gun,\nCrying like a fire in the sun.\nLook out, the saints are coming through \nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nThe highway is for gamblers, better use your sense,\nTake what you have gathered from coincidence.\nThe empty-handed painter from your streets\nIs drawing crazy patterns on your sheets,\nThe sky too is folding over you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nAll your seasick sailors, they're all rowing home,\nAll your reindeer armies, they're all going home,\nThe lover who has just walked out your door\nHas taken all his blankets from the floor,\nThe carpet too is moving under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nLeave your stepping-stones behind, something calls for you,\nForget the dead you left, they will not follow you.\nThe vagabond who's rapping at your door\nIs standing in the clothes that you once wore.\nStrike another match, go start anew,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue."}
{"name": "Desolation Row", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown,\nThe beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town.\nHere comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance,\nOne hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants.\nAnd the riot squad, they're restless, they need somewhere to go\nAs Lady and I look out tonight from Desolation Row.\n\nCinderella, she seems so easy. \"It takes one to know one,\" she smiles\nAnd puts her hands into her back pocket Bette Davis-style.\nAnd in comes Romeo, he's moaning, \"You belong to me, I believe.\"\nAnd someone turns and says to him, \"My friend, you'd better leave.\"\nAnd the only sound that's left after the ambulances go\nIs Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row.\n\nNow, the moon is almost hidden, the stars, they're just pretending to hide,\nThe fortune-telling lady has even taken all her things inside.\nAll except for Cain and Abel and the Hunchback of Notre Dame,\nEveryone is either making love or else expecting rain.\nAnd the Good Samaritan, he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show.\nHe's going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row.\n\nOphelia, she's 'neath the window, for her I feel so afraid,\nOn her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid.\nNow, to her death is quite romantic, she wears an iron vest,\nHer profession is her religion, her sin is her lifelessness.\nAnd, though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow,\nShe spends her time peeking into Desolation Row.\n\nEinstein, disguised as Robin Hood, with his memories in a trunk,\nPassed this way an hour ago with his friend, some jealous monk.\nNow, he looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette,\nThen he went off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet.\nYou would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago\nFor playing the electric violin on Desolation Row.\n\nDr. Filth, he keeps his world locked inside of his leather cup,\nBut all his sexless patients, they're trying to blow it up.\nNow, his nurse, some local loser, she's in charge of the cyanide hole,\nShe also keeps the cards that read \"Have Mercy on His Soul\".\nThey all play on the penny whistle, you can hear them blow\nIf you lean your head out far enough from Desolation Row.\n\nAcross the street they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready for the feast,\nThe Phantom of the Opera in the perfect image of a priest.\nThey are spoon-feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured,\nThen they'll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words.\nAnd the Phantom shouts to skinny girls, \"Get outta here if you don't know\nCasanova, he's just being punished for going to Desolation Row!\"\n\nAt midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew\nCome out and round up everyone that knows more than they do.\nThen they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine\nIs strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene\nIs brought down from the castles by insurance men who go\nCheck to see that no one is escaping to Desolation Row.\n\nPraise be to Nero's Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn,\nEverybody's shouting, \"Which side are you on?\"\nAnd Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain's tower\nWhile Calypso-singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers\nBetween the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow\nAnd nobody has to think too much about Desolation Row.\n\nYes, I received your letter yesterday about the time the door-knob broke.\nWhen you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke?\nAll these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame,\nI had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name.\nRight now I cannot read too well, don't send me no more letters, no!\nNot unless you mail them from Desolation Row."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain,\nEverybody knows that baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again,\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she sees finally that she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd then she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying there of thirst, so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just don't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nBut, when we meet again and are introduced by friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.\nYou fake just like a woman - yes, you do!\nYou make love like a woman - yes, you do!\nAnd then you ache just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nBesides it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Tell Me, Momma", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "Cold, black glass don't make no mirror,\nCold, black water don't make no tears.\nYou say you love me with what be--may be love,\nDon't you remember making baby love?\nYes, you got your steam drill, now you're looking for some kid\nTo get it to work for you like your nine-pound hammer did,\nBut I know that you know that I know that you show something\nIs tearing up your mind.\nTell me, mama, tell me, mama, tell me, mama, what is it?\nWhat's wrong with you this time?\n\nBlack sunglass can't make pony run,\nTombstone bay dog can't get it done,\nFool's gold in your teeth and cemetery hips,\nBaby, outside of your graveyard lips.\nYes, everybody's wondering when your friendship's gonna end,\nBut come on, baby, I'm your friend!\nAnd I know that you know that I know that you show something\nIs tearing up your mind.\nTell me, mama, tell me, mama, tell me, mama, what is it?\nWhat's wrong with you this time?\n\nOh, [incomprehensible] but your ace is red -\nThe man, he can't get it, he's almost dead.\nEverybody sees you on your window ledge.\nHow long's it gonna take for you to get off the edge?\nYou're just gonna make everybody jump and roar.\nNow, what you wanna go and do that for?\nI know that you know that I know that you show something\nIs tearing up your mind.\nTell me, mama, tell me, mama, tell me, mama, what is it?\nWhat's wrong with you this time?"}
{"name": "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "This is called \"I Don't Believe You (It Used to Go Like That and Now It Goes Like This)\".\n\nWell, I can't understand,\nShe let go of my hand\nAnd left me here facing the wall.\nYes, I'd sure like to know\nWhy she did go,\nBut I can't get close to her at all.\nThough we kissed through the wild, blazing nighttime,\nShe said she would never forget,\nBut morning is clear\nAnd it's like I ain't here,\nShe just acts like we never have met.\n\nWell, it's all new to me\nLike some mystery,\nIt could even be like a myth,\nBut it's hard to think on\nThat she's the same one\nThat last night I was with.\nYes, I know from darkness dreams are deserted,\nBut am I still dreaming yet?\nI wish she'd unlock\nHer voice once and talk\n'Stead of acting like we never have met.\n\nIf I didn't have to guess,\nI'd gladly confess\nTo anything I might've tried.\nIf I was with her too long\nOr have done something wrong,\nI wish she'd tell me what it is, I'll run and hide.\nThough her skirt, it swayed as the guitar played,\nHer mouth was watery and wet,\nBut something has changed\nFor she ain't the same,\nShe just acts like we never have met.\n\nI'm leaving today,\nI'll be on my way,\nOf this I can't say very much,\nBut, if you want me to,\nI can be just like you\nAnd pretend that we never have touched.\nAnd, if anybody asks me,\n\"Is it easy to forget?\"\nI'll say, \"It's easily done,\nJust pick anyone\nAnd pretend that you never have met.\""}
{"name": "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "Baby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\n\nI'll buy you a diamond ring,\nYes, I'll buy you a wedding gown,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\n\nCan I come home with you?\nBaby, can I come home with you?\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me come home with you.\n\nI'll buy you rope and twine,\nHoney, just for you to climb,\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just once drive me outta my mind.\n\nI'll buy you a [incomprehensible] skirt,\nI'll buy you a velvet shirt,\nYes, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf it just don't make me hurts.\n\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down.\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nBaby, let me follow you down,\nWell, I'll do anything in this God-Almighty world\nIf you just let me follow you down."}
{"name": "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter-time too\nAnd your gravity's down and negativity don't get you through,\nJust don't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue,\nThey got some hungry women there and they really make a mess outta you.\n\nNow, if you see Saint Annie, please tell her \"Thanks a lot\",\nI cannot move, my fingers, they're all even in a knot.\nI don't have the strength to get up and take another shot\nAnd my best friend, the doctor, he won't even tell me what it is that I've gots.\n\nSweet Melinda, the peasants call her the \"Goddess of Gloom\",\nShe speaks good English and she invites you up into her room\nAnd you're so kind and careful not to go to her too soon\nAnd she steals your voice and leaves you screaming at the moon.\n\nUp on Housing Project Hill it's either fortune or fame,\nYou must pick up one or the other, neither of them are to be what they claim.\nIf you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came\nBecause the cops don't need you and, man, they expect the same.\n\nNow, all the authorities, they just stand around and boast\nHow they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into getting up and leaving his post\nAnd picking up Angel, who just arrived from the coast,\nWho looked so fine at first, but left looking just like a ghost.\nAlright!\n\nI started out on burgundy, but soon hit the harder stuff,\nEverybody said they'd stand behind me when the game got rough,\nYes, but the joke was on me, there was nobody even there to call my bluff.\nI'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough."}
{"name": "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "This is ca--this is called \"Yes-\" - this is, uh, this is called \"Yes, I See You've Got Your Brand-New Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat.\"\n\nWell, I see you got your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat,\nYes, I see you got your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\nWell, you must tell me, baby, how your head feels under something like that,\nUnder your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, you wear it so pretty. Honey, can I jump on it sometime?\nYes, I just wanna see if it's really the expensive kind.\nYou know, it balances on your head just like a mattress balances on a bottle of wine,\nYour brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, if you wanna see the sunrise, honey, I know where,\nYes, we'll go out and see it sometime, we'll both just sit there and stare,\nMe with my belt wrapped around my head and you just sitting there\nIn your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, I asked the doctor if I could see you. \"It's bad for your health,\" he said.\nYes, I disobeyed his orders, I came to see you, but I found him there instead.\nYou know, I don't mind him cheating on me, but I sure wish he'd get that off his head,\nYour brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat.\n\nWell, I see you got a new boyfriend, no, I never seen him before.\nWell, I saw you making love with him, you forgot to close the garage door.\nYou might think he loves you for your money, but I know what he really loves you for,\nIt's your brand-new leopard-skin pill-box hat."}
{"name": "One Too Many Mornings", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "...if you only just wouldn't clap so hard.\n\nDown the street the dogs are barking and the day is getting dark,\nAs the night comes in a-falling, the dogs will lose their bark,\nAnd the silent night will shatter from the sounds inside my mind.\nYes, I'm one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nFrom the crossroads of my doorsteps my eyes, they begin to fade\nAnd I turn my head back to the room where my love and I have laid\nAnd I gaze back to the streets, the sidewalks, and the sign\nAnd I'm one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind.\n\nIt's a restless, hungry feeling that don't mean no one no good\nWhen everything I'm saying you can say it just as good.\nYes, you're right from your side and I'm right from mine,\nWe're both just one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind!"}
{"name": "Ballad of a Thin Man", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand,\nYou see somebody naked, you say, \"Who is that man?\"\nYou try so hard, but you don't understand\nJust what you're gonna say when you get home,\nYes, because you know something is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou walk in so politely, you say, \"Is this where it is?\"\nAnd somebody points to you and says, \"It's his.\"\nYou say, \"What's mine?\" Somebody else says, \"Where what is?\"\nAnd you say, \"Oh, my God, am I here all alone?\"\nYes, but, you know something's happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou hand in your money to go watch the geek,\nWho suddenly walks up to you when he hears you speak,\nSaying, \"How does it feel to be such a freak?\"\nYou say, \"Impossible!\" as he hands you a bone.\nYes, but you know something's happening, it's just that you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou have many contacts out there among the lumberjacks\nTo get you facts when someone attacks your imagination.\nYes, nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect\nYou just to give away your check to tax-deductible charity organizations.\n\nOh, you been with the professors, they've all liked your looks,\nWith great lawyers and scholars you've discussed lepers and crooks,\nYou been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books,\nYou're very-well read, it's well-known.\nYes, but something's happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nThe sword swallower walks up to you and then he kneels,\nHe crosses himself and he clicks his high heels,\nAnd without further notice he tells you how it feels\nAnd says, \"Here's your throat back. Thanks for the loan!\"\nYes, and you think something's happening, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou see this one-eyed midget shouting the word \"now\"\nAnd you say, \"For what reason?\" And he says, \"How?\"\nAnd you say, \"Oh, my God, what does that mean?\" And he screams back, \"You're a cow!\nGive me some milk or else go home!\"\nYes, now you're positive something's happening and you wish you knew what it was, don't you, Mr. Jones?\n\nYou walk into the room like a camel and then you frown,\nYou put your eyes in your pockets and your nose into the ground.\nThere oughtta be a law against you coming around,\nYou should be made to be wearing at all times a telephone,\nYes, because something is happening and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?"}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The \"Royal Albert Hall\" Concert", "album_year": "1998", "text": "I don't believe you.\nYou're a liar!\n\nPlay fucking loud!\n\nOnce upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud,\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging for your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be one your own,\nNo direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nWell, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street,\nYou find out now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you wanna make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nNo direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nWell, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down to do tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he's taken everything he can steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nPrincess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking and thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts and things,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring down and pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe,\nIf'n you don't know by now.\nAnd it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe -\nIt'll never do, somehow.\nWhen your rooster crows at the break of dawn,\nLook out your window and I'll be gone.\nYou're the reason I'm traveling on,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe,\nThe light I never knowed.\nAnd it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe -\nI'm on the dark side of the road.\nBut I wish there was something you would do or say\nTo try and make me change my mind and stay.\nBut we never did too much talking, anyway.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo, it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal,\nLike you never done before.\nAnd it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal -\nI can't hear you anymore.\nI'm thinking and wondering, walking down the road.\nI once loved a woman - a child, I am told.\nI give her my heart, but she wanted my soul.\nBut don't think twice, it's alright.\n\nSo long, honey babe.\nWhere I'm bound I can't tell.\nGoodbye's too good a word, babe,\nSo I'll just say \"Fare thee well\".\nI ain't saying you treated me unkind.\nYou coulda done better, but I don't mind.\nYou just kinda wasted my precious time,\nBut don't think twice, it's alright."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThe battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho's never weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo lightly from the ledge, babe,\nGo lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI will only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his heart,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back in the night,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho'll pick you up each time you fall,\nTo gather flowers constantly,\nAnd to come each time you call,\nA lover for your life and nothing more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "Maggie's Farm", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I wake up in the morning, fold my hands and pray for rain.\nI got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane.\nIt's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\nWell, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime.\nHe asks you with a grin if you're having a good time;\nThen he fines you every time you slam the door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\nWell, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks,\nHis bedroom window, it is made out of bricks.\nThe National Guard stands around his door.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more,\nNo, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\nWell, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law,\nEverybody says she's the brains behind pa.\nShe's 68, but she says she's 54.\nI ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.\n\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more,\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.\nWell, I try my best to be just like I am,\nBut everybody wants you to be just like them.\nThey say \"Sing!\" while you slave and I just get bored.\nI ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more."}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Johnny's in the basement\nMixing up the medicine,\nI'm on the pavement\nThinking about the government,\nThe man in the trench-coat,\nBadge out, laid off,\nSays he's got a bad cough,\nWants to get it paid off.\nLook out, kid,\nIt's something you did\nGod knows when,\nBut you're doing it again,\nYou better duck down the alleyway,\nLooking for a new friend.\nThe man in the coon-skin cap\nIn the pigpen\nWants eleven dollar bills,\nYou only got ten.\n\nMaggie comes fleet-foot,\nFace full of black soot,\nTalking that the heat put\nPlants in the bed, but\nThe phone's tapped anyway,\nMaggie says that many say\nThey must bust in early May,\nOrders from the D.A.\nLook out, kid,\nDon't matter what you did,\nDon't walk on your tip-toes,\nDon't try No Doz,\nBetter stay away from those\nThat carry 'round a fire-hose,\nKeep a clean nose,\nWatch the plain-clothes,\nYou don't need a weatherman\nTo know which way the wind blows.\n\nAh, get sick, get well,\nHang around the ink-well,\nRing bell, hard to tell\nIf anything is gonna sell,\nTry hard, get barred,\nGet back, write Braille,\nGet jailed, jump bail,\nJoin the army if you fail.\nLook out, kid,\nYou're gonna get hit\nBy losers, cheaters,\nSix-time users\nHanging 'round the theaters,\nGirl by the whirlpool's\nLooking for a new fool,\nDon't follow leaders,\nWatch the parking meters.\n\nOh, get born, keep warm,\nShort pants, romance, learn to dance,\nGet dressed, get blessed,\nTry to be a success,\nPlease her, please him, buy gifts,\nDon't steal, don't lift,\nTwenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.\nLook out, kid,\nThey keep it all hid,\nBetter jump down a manhole,\nLight yourself a candle,\nDon't wear sandals\nAnd try to avoid the scandals.\nDon't wanna be a bum,\nYou better chew gum,\nThe pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud.\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nA complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he took from you everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo have--be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, princess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Positively 4th Street", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend,\nWhen I was down, you just stood there grinning.\nYou got a lotta nerve to say you got a helping hand to lend,\nYou just want to be on the side that's winning.\nYou say I let you down, you know it's not like that.\nIf you're so hurt, why then don't you show it?\nYou say you lost your faith, but that's not where it's at,\nYou had no faith to lose and you know it.\nI know the reason that you talk behind my back,\nI used to be among the crowd you're in with.\nDo you take me for such a fool to think I'd make contact\nWith the one who tries to hide what he don't know to begin with?\nYou see me on the street, you always act surprised,\nYou say, \"How are you?\", \"Good luck\", but you don't mean it\nWhen you know as well as me you'd rather see me paralyzed --\nWhy don't you just come out once and scream it?\nNo, I do not feel that good when I see the heartbreaks you embrace,\nIf I was a master thief perhaps I'd rob them,\nAnd, now, I know you're dissatisfied with your position and your place.\nDon't you understand it's not my problem?\nI wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes\nAnd just for that one moment I could be you.\nYes, I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes,\nYou'd know what a drag it is to see you."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Nobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain.\nEverybody knows that baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen from her curls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes, she does!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again.\nNobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed\nTill she finally sees that she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman - yes!\nShe makes love just like a woman - yes, she does!\nAnd she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was dying of thirst so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just can't fit? Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit.\nAnd, when we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was hungry and it was your world.\nAh, you fake just like a woman - yes, you do!\nYou make love just like a woman - yes, you do!\nThen you ache just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Well, they'll stone you when you're trying to be so good,\nThey'll stone you just like they said they would,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to go home,\nThen they'll stone you when you're there all alone.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you're walking on the street,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to keep your seat,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking on the floor,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking to the door.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're at the breakfast table,\nThey'll stone you when you are young and able,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to make a buck,\nThey'll stone you and then they'll say, \"Good luck.\"\nYeah, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you and say that it's the end,\nThen they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your car,\nThey'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.\nYes, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\nAlright!\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you are all alone,\nThey'll stone you when you are walking home,\nThey'll stone you and then say, \"You are brave,\"\nThey'll stone you when you're set down in your grave.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "\"There must be some way out of here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Everybody's building the big ships and boats,\nSome are building monuments, others are jotting down notes,\nEverybody's in despair, every girl and boy.\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody'll jump for joy.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nNow, I likes to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,\nBut darting fumes and making haste, it ain't my cup of meat.\nEverybody's just standing 'round 'neath the trees feeding pigeons on a limb,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, them pigeons'll go to him.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\n\nNow, lamp-gates and [incomprehensible], I can recite 'em all,\nJust tell me where it hurts and I'll tell you who to call.\nNobody can get any sleep, there's someone on everybody's toes,\nBut, when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, everybody's gonna doze.\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!\nCome all without, come all within,\nYou'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn!"}
{"name": "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Close your eyes, close the door.\nYou don't have to worry any more.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nShut the light, shut the shade.\nYou don't have to be afraid.\nI'll be your baby tonight.\n\nWell, that mockingbird's gonna sail away - we're gonna forget it.\nThat big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon, but we're gonna let it. You won't regret it.\nKick your shoes off, do not fear.\nBring that bottle over here.\nI'll be your baby tonight."}
{"name": "Lay Lady Lay", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nUntil the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his--his hands are clean\nAnd you're the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach for you in the night.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "If Not for You", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "If not for you,\nBabe, I couldn't find the door,\nCouldn't even see the floor,\nI'd be sad and blue,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you,\nBabe, I'd lay awake all night,\nWait for the morning light\nTo shine in through,\nBut it would not be new,\nIf not for you.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nI'd be lost if not for you and you know it's true.\n\nIf not for you, my sky would fall,\nRain would gather, too.\nWithout your love I'd be nowhere at all,\nOh, what would I do if not for you?\n\nIf not for you,\nWinter would have no spring,\nI couldn't hear the robin sing,\nI just wouldn't have a clue,\nAnyway, it wouldn't ring true,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you,\nIf not for you."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "They say every man must need protection,\nThey say every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSome place so high above the wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nDown here next to me in this lonely crowd\nThere's a man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him cry so loud,\nCalling out that he's been framed.\nYeah, I see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Clouds so swift, the rain falling in, gonna see a movie called \"Gunga Din\" -\nPack up your money, pull up your tent, McGuinn, you ain't a-going nowhere!\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nGenghis Khan and his brother, Don, couldn't keep on keeping on:\n\"We'll climb that bridge after it's dawn, after we're way past it.\"\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nBuy me some rings and a gun that sings, a flute that toots and a bee that stings,\nSky that cries and a bird that flies, a fish that walks and a dog that talks.\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!\n\nOoh-ee, ride me high, tomorrow's the day that my bride's a-gonna come!\nOoh-ee, are we gonna fly down into the easy chair!"}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black cloud is coming down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,\nMay you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said our lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd I was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on my shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, I've paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when we first met, soon to be divorced,\nI helped her out of a jam, I guess, but I used a little too much force.\nWe drove that car as far as we could, abandoned it out west,\nSplit up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at me as I was a-walking away,\nI heard her say over my shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nI had a job in the Great North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut I never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nSo I drifted down to New Orleans where I lucky was to be employed,\nWorking for a while on a fishing boat right outside of Delacroix,\nBut all the while I was alone, the past was close behind,\nI seen a lot of women but she never escaped my mind and I just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"Don't I know your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"I thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the fifteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nThen he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it finally--the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, a-heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Hurricane", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Pistol-shots ring out in the barroom night,\nEnter Patty Valentine from the upper hall,\nShe sees a bartender in a pool of blood,\nCries out, \"My God, they've killed 'em all!\"\nHere comes the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nThree bodies lying there does Patty see\nAnd another man named Bello, moving around mysteriously.\n\"I didn't do it!\" he says and he throws up his hands,\n\"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand!\nI saw them leaving,\" he says and he stops,\n\"One of us had better call up the cops.\"\nAnd so Patty calls the cops\nAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.\n\nMeanwhile far away in another part of town,\nRubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,\nThe number one contender for the middleweight crown\nHad no idea what kind of shit was about to go down\nWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the road -\nJust like the time before and the time before that.\nIn Paterson, that's just the way things go:\nIf you're black, you might as well not show up on the street 'less you wanna draw the heat.\n\nAlfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops,\nHim and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around.\nHe said, \"I saw two men running out, they looked like middleweights,\nJumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.\"\nAnd Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head,\nCop said, \"Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead!\"\nSo they took him to the infirmary\nAnd, though this man could hardly see, they told him he could identify the guilty men.\n\nFour in the morning and they haul Rubin in,\nThey took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.\nThe wounded man looks up through his one, dying eye,\nSaid, \"Why'd you bring him in here for! He ain't the guy!\"\nHere's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nFour months later, the ghettoes are in flame,\nRubin's in South America, fighting for his name,\nWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game\nAnd the cops are putting the screws to him, looking for somebody to blame.\n\"Remember that murder that you--happened in a bar?\nRemember you said you saw the getaway car?\nThink you'd like to play ball with the law?\nThink it mighta been that fighter that you saw running that night? Don't forget that you are white.\"\n\nArthur Dexter Bradley said, \"I'm really not sure.\"\nThe cops said, \"A poor boy like you could use a break -\nWe got you for the motel job and you talking to your friend, Bello,\nIf you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.\nYou'll be doing society a favor,\nThat son-of-a-bitch is brave and getting braver.\nWe wanna put his ass in the stir,\nWe wanna pin this triple murder on him - he ain't no 'Gentleman Jim'.\"\n\nRubin could take a man out with just one punch,\nBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.\n\"It's my work,\" he'd say, \"and I do it for pay\nAnd, when it's over, just as soon go on my way\"--\nUp into some paradise\nWhere the trout streams flow and the air is nice\nAnd ride a horse along the trail,\nBut then they took him to the jailhouse, where they try to turn a man into a mouse.\n\nAll of Rubin's cards were marked in advance,\nThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance:\nThe judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums,\nTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum,\nAnd to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger,\nNo one doubted that he pulled the trigger,\nAnd, though they could not produce the gun,\nThe D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.\n\nRubin Carter was falsely tried,\nThe crime was murder one, guess who testified?\n--Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied,\nThe newspapers, they all went along for the ride.\nHow can the life of such a man\nBe in the palm of some fool's hand?\nTo see him obviously framed\nCouldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game.\n\nNow all the criminals in their coats and their ties\nAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise\nWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell,\nAn innocent man in a living hell.\nYes, that's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nBut it won't be over till they clear his name\nAnd give him back the time he's done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world."}
{"name": "Ring Them Bells", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Ring them bells, ye heathen, from the city that dreams,\nRing them bells from the sanctuaries cross the valleys and streams\nFor they're deep and they're wide and the world's on its side\nAnd time is running backwards and so is the bride.\n\nRing them bells, St. Peter, where the four winds blow,\nRing them bells with an iron hand so the people will know.\nOh, it's rush hour now on the wheel and the plow\nAnd the sun is a-going down upon the sacred cow.\n\nRing them bells, sweet Martha, for the poor man's son,\nRing them bells so the world will know that-a God is one.\nOh, the shepherd is asleep where the willows weep\nAnd the mountains are filled with lost sheep.\n\nRing them bells for the blind and the deaf,\nRing them bells for all of us who are left,\nRing them bells for the chosen few\nWho will judge the many when the game is through,\nRing them bells for the time that flies,\nFor the child that cries when the innocence dies.\n\nRing them bells, St. Catherine, from the top of the room,\nRing them from the fortress for the lilies that bloom.\nOh, the lines are long and the fighting is strong\nAnd they're breaking down the distance between a-right and wrong."}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "You may be an ambassador to England or France,\nYou may like to gamble, you might like to dance,\nYou may be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nYou may be a socialite with a long string of pearls,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a rock-and-roll addict prancing on the stage,\nMight have drugs at your command, women in a cage,\nYou may be a businessman or some high-degree thief,\nThey may call you \"doctor\" or they may call you \"chief\",\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a state trooper, you might be a Young Turk,\nMay be the head of some big TV network,\nYou may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a construction worker working on a home,\nMight be living in a mansion, you might live in a dome,\nYou may own guns and you may even own tanks,\nYou may be somebody's landlord, you may even own banks,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it a-may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a preacher preaching spiritual pride,\nMay be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,\nMay be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,\nYou may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMight like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,\nMight like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,\nMight like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,\nMay be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nNow, you may call me Terry or you may call me Timmy,\nYou may call me Bobby or you may call me Zimmy,\nYou may call me R.J., you may call me Ray,\nYou may call me anything, don't matter what you say,\nYou're still gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil and it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "Jokerman", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Standing on the water, casting your bread\nWhile the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.\nDistant ships sailing in through the mist,\nYou were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.\nFreedom, just around the corner for you,\nBut, with the truth so far off, what good will it do?\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nSo swiftly the sun sets in the sky,\nYou rise up and say goodbye to no one.\nFools rush in where angels fear to tread,\nBoth of their futures so full of dread -- you don't show one.\nShedding off one more layer of skin,\nKeeping one step ahead from the persecutor within.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nYou're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,\nManipulator of crowds, you're a dream-twister.\nYou're going to Sodom and Gomorrah,\nBut what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister!\nFriend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,\nYou look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,\nThe law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.\nIn the smoke of the twilight, on a milk-white steed,\nMichelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.\nResting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,\nHalf asleep 'neath the stars with a small dog licking your face.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,\nPreacherman seeks the same -- who'll get there first is uncertain.\nNight-sticks and water-cannons, tear gas, padlocks,\nMolotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain.\nFalse-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,\nOnly a matter of time till night comes stepping in.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nIt's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,\nA woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet.\nHe'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,\nTake the motherless children off the street,\nAnd place them at the feet of a harlot.\nOh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,\nOh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman."}
{"name": "Not Dark Yet", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Shadows are falling and I've been here all day,\nIt's too hot to sleep and time is running away.\nFeel like my soul has turned into steel,\nI've still got the scars that the sun did not heal.\nThere's not even room enough to be anywhere,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, my sense of humanity has gone down the drain,\nBehind every beautiful thing there's been some kinda pain.\nShe wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind,\nShe put down in writing what was in her mind.\nI just don't see why I should even care,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, I've been to London and I've been to gay Paris,\nI've followed the river and I got to the sea.\nI've been down on the bottom of a world full of lies,\nI ain't looking for nothing in anyone's eyes.\nSometimes my burden is more than I can bear,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nI was born here and I'll die here against my will,\nI know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.\nEvery nerve in my body is so vacant and numb,\nI can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from.\nDon't even hear a murmur of a prayer,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there."}
{"name": "Things Have Changed", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "A worried man with a worried mind,\nNo one in front of me and nothing behind,\nThere's a woman on my lap and she's drinking champagne,\nGot white skin, got assassin's eyes,\nI'm looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies,\nI'm well dressed, waiting on the last train.\nStanding on the gallows with my head in a noose,\nAny minute now I'm expecting all hell to break loose.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nThis place ain't doing me any good,\nI'm in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood,\nJust for a second there I thought I saw something move.\nGonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag,\nAin't no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag,\nOnly a fool here would think he's got anything to prove.\nLotta water under the bridge, lotta other stuff too,\nDon't get up, gentlemen, I'm only passing through.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nI've been walking forty miles of bad road,\nIf the bible is right, the world will explode,\nI've been trying to get as far away from myself as I can.\nSome things are too hot to touch,\nThe human mind can only stand so much,\nYou can't win with a losing hand.\nFeel like falling in love with the first woman I meet,\nPutting her in a wheel-barrow and wheeling her down the street.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nI hurt easy, I just don't show it,\nYou can hurt someone and not even know it,\nThe next sixty seconds could be like an eternity.\nGonna get low-down, gonna fly high,\nAll the truth in the world adds up to one big lie,\nI'm in love with a woman that don't even appeal to me.\nMr. Jinx and Ms. Lucy, they jumped in the lake,\nI'm not that eager to make a mistake.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range.\nI used to care, but things have changed."}
{"name": "Make You Feel My Love", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "When the rain is blowing in your face\nAnd the whole world is on your case,\nI could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love.\n\nWhen the evening shadows and the stars appear\nAnd there is no one there to dry your tears,\nI could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love.\n\nI know you haven't made your mind up yet,\nBut I would never do you wrong.\nI've known it from the moment that we met,\nNo doubt in my mind where you belong.\n\nI'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue,\nI'd go crawling down the avenue,\nNo, there's nothing that I wouldn't do to make you feel my love.\n\nThe storms are raging on the rolling sea\nAnd on the highway of regret,\nThe winds of change are blowing wild and free,\nYou ain't seen nothing like me yet.\n\nI could make you happy, make your dreams come true,\nNothing that I wouldn't do,\nGo to the ends of the earth for you to make you feel my love."}
{"name": "Mississippi", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Every step of the way we walk the line,\nYour days are numbered, so are mine.\nTime is piling up, we struggle and we scrape,\nWe're all boxed in, nowhere to escape.\n\nCity's just a jungle, more games to play,\nTrapped in the heart of it, trying to get away.\nI was raised in the country, I been working in the town,\nI been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down.\n\nGot nothing for you, I had nothing before,\nDon't even have anything for myself anymore.\nSky full of fire, pain pouring down,\nNothing you can sell me, I'll see you around.\n\nAll my powers of expression and thoughts so sublime\nCould never do you justice in reason or rhyme.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long.\n\nWell, the devil's in the alley, mule's in the stall,\nSay anything you wanna, I have heard it all.\nI was thinking 'bout the things that Rosie said,\nI was dreaming I was sleeping in Rosie's bed.\n\nWalking through the leaves falling from the trees,\nFeeling like a stranger nobody sees.\nSo many things that we never will undo;\nI know you're sorry, I'm sorry too.\n\nSome people will offer you their hand and some won't,\nLast night I knew you, tonight I don't.\nI need something strong to distract my mind,\nI'm gonna look at you till my eyes go blind.\n\nWell, I got here following the Southern Star,\nI crossed that river just to be where you are.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long.\n\nWell, my ship's been split to splinters and it's sinking fast,\nI'm drowning in the poison, got no future, got no past,\nBut my heart is not weary, it's light and it's free,\nI got nothing but affection for all those who've sailed with me.\n\nEverybody moving - if they ain't already there,\nEverybody got to move somewhere.\nStick with me, baby, stick with me anyhow,\nThings should start to get interesting right about now.\n\nMy clothes are wet, tight on my skin,\nNot as tight as the corner that I painted myself in.\nI know that fortune is waiting to be kind,\nSo give me your hand and say you'll be mine.\n\nWell, the emptiness is endless, cold as the clay,\nYou can always come back, but you can't come back all the way.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long."}
{"name": "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "I love you, pretty baby,\nYou're the only love I've ever known.\nJust as long as you stay with me,\nThe whole world is my throne.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing we can call our own\n\nI'm moving after midnight\nDown boulevards of broken cars,\nDon't know what to do without it,\nWithout this love that we call ours.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing but the moon and stars.\n\nDown every street there's a window\nAnd every window made of glass.\nWe'll keep on loving, pretty baby,\nFor as long as love will last.\nBeyond here lies nothing\nBut the mountains of the past.\n\nMy ship is in the harbor\nAnd the sails are spread.\nListen to me, pretty baby,\nLay your hand upon my head.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing done and nothing said."}
{"name": "Duquesne Whistle", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gonna sweep my world away.\nI'm gonna stop at Carmangale and keep on going,\nThat Duquesne train gon' rock me night and day.\nYou say I'm a gambler, you say I'm a pimp,\nBut I ain't neither one.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nSound like it's on a final run.\n\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she never blowed before,\nLittle light blinking, red light glowing,\nBlowing like she's at my chamber door.\nYou smiling through the fence at me\nJust like you've always smiled before.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she ain't gon' blow no more.\n\nCan't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?\nBlowing like the sky's gonna blow apart.\nYou're the only thing alive that keeps me going,\nYou're like a time bomb in my heart.\nI can hear a sweet voice steadily calling,\nMust be the mother of Our Lord.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like my woman's on board.\n\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gon' blow my blues away.\nYou're a rascal, I know exactly where you're going,\nI'll lead you there myself at the break of day.\nI wake up every morning with that woman in my bed,\nEverybody telling me she's gone to my head.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gon' kill me dead.\nCan't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?\nBlowing through another no-good town.\n\nThe lights on my native land are glowing,\nI wonder if they'll know me next time 'round.\nI wonder if that old oak tree's still standing,\nThat old oak tree, the one we used to climb.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she's blowing right on time."}
{"name": "When the Deal Goes Down", "album": "The Essential Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2000", "text": "In the still of the night, in the world's ancient light,\nWhere wisdom grows up in strife,\nMy bewildering brain toils in vain,\nThrough the darkness on the pathways of life.\nEach invisible prayer is like a cloud in the air,\nTomorrow keeps turning around.\nWe live and we die, we know not why,\nBut I'll be with you when the deal goes down.\n\nWe eat and we drink, we feel and we think,\nFar down the street we stray.\nI laugh and I cry and I'm haunted by\nThings I never meant nor wished to say.\nThe midnight rain follows the train,\nWe all wear the same thorny crown.\nSoul to soul our shadows roll\nAnd I'll be with you when the deal goes down.\n\nThe moon gives light and shines by night,\nI scarcely feel the glow.\nWe learn to live and then we forgive,\nO'er the road we're bound to go.\nMore frailer than the flowers, these precious hours\nThat keep us so tightly bound.\nYou come to my eyes like a vision from the skies\nAnd I'll be with you when the deal goes down.\n\nI picked up a rose and it poked through my clothes,\nI followed the winding stream.\nI heard a deafening noise, I felt transient joys,\nI know they're not what they seem.\nIn this earthly domain, full of disappointment and pain\nYou'll never see me frown.\nI owe my heart to you and that's saying it true\nAnd I'll be with you when the deal goes down."}
{"name": "Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee,\nThey're throwing knives into the tree,\nTwo big bags of dead man's bones,\nGot their noses to the grindstones.\n\nLiving in the land of Nod,\nTrusting their fate to the hands of God,\nThey pass by so silently,\nTweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.\n\nWell, they're going to the country, they're gonna retire,\nThey're taking a streetcar named \"Desire\",\nLooking at the window at the pecan pie,\nLotta things they'd like they would never buy.\n\nNeither one gonna turn and run,\nThey're making a voyage to the sun.\n\"His Master's voice is calling me,\"\nSaid Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee.\n\nTweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,\nAll that and more and then some,\nThey walk among the stately trees,\nThey know the secrets of the breeze.\n\nTweedle Dum said to Tweedle Dee,\n\"Your presence is obnoxious to me.\"\nThey're like babies sitting on a woman's knee,\nTweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.\n\nWell, the rain beating down on my windowpane,\nI got love for you and it's all in vain.\nBrains in the pot, they're beginning to boil,\nThey're dripping with garlic and olive oil.\n\nTweedle Dee's on his hands and his knees,\nSaying, \"Throw me something, mister, please.\"\n\"What's good for you is good for me,\"\nSaid Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee.\n\nWell, they're living in a happy harmony,\nTweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.\nThey're one day older and a dollar short,\nThey got a parade permit and a police escort.\n\nThey're lying low and they're making hay,\nThey seem determined to go all the way.\nThey run a brick and tile company,\nTweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.\n\nWell, a childish dream is a deathless need\nAnd a noble truth is a sacred creed.\nMy pretty baby, she's looking around,\nShe's wearing a multi-thousand dollar gown.\n\nTweedle Dee, he's a low-down, sorry, old man,\nTweedle Dum, he'll stab you where you stand.\n\"I've had too much of your company,\"\nSaid Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee."}
{"name": "Mississippi", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Every step of the way we walk the line,\nYour days are numbered, so are mine.\nTime is piling up, we struggle and we scrape,\nWe're all boxed in, nowhere to escape.\n\nCity's just a jungle, more games to play,\nTrapped in the heart of it, trying to get away.\nI was raised in the country, I been working in the town,\nI been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down.\n\nGot nothing for you, I had nothing before,\nDon't even have anything for myself anymore.\nSky full of fire, pain pouring down,\nNothing you can sell me, I'll see you around.\n\nAll my powers of expression and thoughts so sublime\nCould never do you justice in reason or rhyme.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long.\n\nWell, the devil's in the alley, mule's in the stall,\nSay anything you wanna, I have heard it all.\nI was thinking 'bout the things that Rosie said,\nI was dreaming I was sleeping in Rosie's bed.\n\nWalking through the leaves falling from the trees,\nFeeling like a stranger nobody sees.\nSo many things that we never will undo;\nI know you're sorry, I'm sorry too.\n\nSome people will offer you their hand and some won't,\nLast night I knew you, tonight I don't.\nI need something strong to distract my mind,\nI'm gonna look at you till my eyes go blind.\n\nWell, I got here following the Southern Star,\nI crossed that river just to be where you are.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long.\n\nWell, my ship's been split to splinters and it's sinking fast,\nI'm drowning in the poison, got no future, got no past,\nBut my heart is not weary, it's light and it's free,\nI got nothing but affection for all those who've sailed with me.\n\nEverybody moving - if they ain't already there,\nEverybody got to move somewhere.\nStick with me, baby, stick with me anyhow,\nThings should start to get interesting right about now.\n\nMy clothes are wet, tight on my skin,\nNot as tight as the corner that I painted myself in.\nI know that fortune is waiting to be kind,\nSo give me your hand and say you'll be mine.\n\nWell, the emptiness is endless, cold as the clay,\nYou can always come back, but you can't come back all the way.\nOnly one thing I did wrong,\nStayed in Mississippi a day too long."}
{"name": "Summer Days", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Summer days, summer nights are gone,\nSummer days and the summer nights are gone,\nI know a place where there's still something going on.\n\nI got a house on a hill, I got hogs out in the mud,\nI got a house on the hill, I got hogs all out in the mud,\nI got a long-haired woman, she got royal Indian blood.\n\nEverybody, get ready, lift up your glasses and sing,\nEverybody, get ready to lift up your glasses and sing,\nWell, I'm standing on the table, I'm proposing a toast to the king.\n\nWell, I'm driving in the flats in a Cadillac car,\nThe girls all say, \"You're a worn-out star.\"\nMy pockets are loaded and I'm spending every dime.\nHow can you say you love someone else? You know it's me all the time.\n\nWell, the fog's so thick you can't spy the land,\nThe fog is so thick that you can't even spy the land.\nWhat good are you anyway if you can't stand up to some old businessman?\n\nWedding bells're ringing, the choir is beginning to sing,\nYes, the wedding bells're ringing and the choir's beginning to sing,\nWhat look good in the day at night is another thing.\n\nShe's looking into my eyes, she's a-holding my hand,\nShe looking into my eyes, she's holding my hand,\nShe say, \"You can't repeat the past.\" I say, \"You can't? \nWhat do you mean you can't? Of course you can.\"\n\nWhere do you come from? Where do you go?\nSorry, that's a-nothing you would need to know.\nWell, my back's been to the wall so long it seem like it's stuck.\nWhy don't you break my heart one more time just for good luck?\n\nI got eight carburetors, boys, I'm using 'em all.\nWell, I got eight carburetors and, boys, I'm using 'em all,\nI'm short on gas, my motor's starting to stall.\n\nMy dogs are barking, there must be someone around,\nMy dogs are barking, there's must be someone around,\nI got my hammer ringing, pretty baby, but the nails ain't going down.\n\nYou got something to say, speak or hold your peace,\nWell, you got something to say, speak now or hold your peace,\nIf it's information you want, you can get it from the police.\n\nPolitician's got on his jogging shoes,\nHe must be running for office, got no time to lose.\nHe's sucking the blood out of the genius of generosity,\nYou been rolling your eyes, you been teasing me.\n\nStanding by God's river, my soul beginning to shake,\nStanding by God's river, my soul's beginning to shake,\nI'm counting on you, love, to give me a break.\n\nWell, I'm leaving in the morning as soon as the dark clouds lift,\nYes, I'm leaving in the morning just as soon as the dark clouds lift,\nGonna break in the roof, set fire to the place as a parting gift.\n\nSummer days, summer nights are gone,\nSummer days, summer nights are gone,\nI know a place where there's still something going on."}
{"name": "Bye and Bye", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "By and by I'm breathing a lover's sigh,\nWell, I'm sitting on my watch so I can be on time,\nI'm singing love's praises with sugarcoated rhyme,\nBy and by on you I'm casting my eye.\n\nI'm painting the town, swinging my partner around,\nWell, I know who I can depend on, I know who to trust,\nI'm watching the roads, I'm studying the dust,\nI'm painting the town, making my last go-round.\n\nWell, I'm scuffling and I'm shuffling and I'm walking on briars,\nI'm not even acquainted with my own desires.\n\nI'm rolling slow, I'm doing all I know,\nI'm telling myself I found true happiness,\nThat I've still got a dream that hasn't been repossessed,\nI'm rolling slow, going where the wild roses grow.\n\nWell, the future for me is already a thing of the past,\nYou were my first love and you will be my last.\n\nPapa gone mad, mama, she's feeling sad.\nWell, I'm gonna baptize you in fire so you can sin no more,\nI'm gonna establish my rule through civil war,\nGon' make you see just how loyal and true a man can be."}
{"name": "Lonesome Day Blues", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Well, today's been a sad, old, lonesome day,\nYeah, today's been a sad, old, lonesome day,\nI'm just sitting here thinking with my mind a million miles away.\n\nWell, they're doing the double shuffle, throwing sand on the floor,\nThey're doing the double shuffle, they're throwing sand on the floor,\nWhen I left my long-time darling, she was standing in the door.\n\nWell, my pa he died and left me, my brother got killed in the war,\nWell, my pa he died and left me, my brother got killed in the war,\nMy sister, she ran off and got married, never was heard of anymore.\n\nSamantha Brown lived in my house for about four or five months,\nSamantha Brown lived in my house for 'bout four or five months,\nDon't know how it looked to other people, I never slept with her even once.\n\nWell, the road's washed out, weather not fit for man or beast,\nYeah, the road's washed out, weather not fit for man or beast,\nFunny how the things you have the hardest time parting with are the things you need the least.\n\nWell, I'm forty miles from the mill, I'm dropping it into overdrive,\nI'm forty miles from the mill, I'm dropping it into overdrive,\nSetting my dial on the radio, I wish my mother was still alive.\n\nI seen your lover man coming, coming 'cross the barren field,\nI see your lover man coming, coming 'cross the barren field,\nHe not a gentleman at all, he rotten to the core, he's a coward, and he steals.\n\nWell, my captain, he's decorated, he's well schooled, and he's skilled,\nMy captain, he's decorated, he's well schooled, and he's skilled,\nHe's not sentimental, don't bother him at all how many of his pals have been killed.\n\nLast night the wind was whispering, I was trying to make out what it was,\nLast night the wind was whispering something, I's trying to make out what it was,\nYeah, I tell myself something's coming, but it never does.\n\nI'm gonna spare the defeated, I'm gonna speak to the crowd,\nI'm gonna spare the defeated, boys, I'm going to speak to the crowd,\nI'm gon' to teach peace to the conquered, I'm gonna tame the proud.\n\nWell, the leaves are rustling in the wood, things are falling off of the shelf,\nLeaves are rustling in the wood, things are falling off the shelf,\nYou're gonna need my help, sweetheart, you can't make love all by yourself."}
{"name": "Floater (Too Much to Ask)", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Down over the window come the dazzling, sunlit rays\nThrough the back alleys, through the blinds, another one of them endless days.\n\nHoneybees are buzzing, leaves begin to stir,\nI'm in love with my second cousin, I tell myself I could be happy forever with her.\n\nI keep listening for footsteps, but I ain't ever hearing any,\nFrom the boat I fish for bullheads, I catch a lot, sometimes too many.\n\nA summer breeze is blowing, a squall is setting in,\nSometimes it's just plain stupid to get into any kind of wind.\n\nWell, the old men 'round here, sometimes they get on bad terms with the younger men,\nOld, young, age don't carry weight, it doesn't matter in the end.\n\nOne of the boss's hangers-on sometimes comes to call at times you least expect,\nTry to bully you, strong arm you, inspire you with fear, it has the opposite effect.\n\nThere's a new grove of trees on the outskirts of town, the old one is long gone,\nTimber, two foot six across, burns with the bark still on.\n\nThey say times are hard, if you don't believe it, you can just follow your nose.\nIt don't bother me, times are hard everywhere, we'll just have to see how it goes.\n\nMy old man, he's like some feudal lord, got more lives than a cat.\nI never seen him quarrel with my mother even once, things come alive or they fall flat.\n\nYou can smell the pine-wood burning, you can hear the school-bell ring,\nGotta get up near the teacher if you can if you wanna learn anything.\n\nRomeo, he said to Juliet, \"You got a poor complexion. It doesn't give your appearance a very youthful touch.\"\nJuliet said back to Romeo, \"Why don't you just shove off if it bothers you so much?\"\n\nThey got - all got outta here any way they could, cold rain can give you the shivers.\nThey went down the Ohio, the Cumberland, the Tennessee, all the rest of them rebel rivers.\n\nIf you ever try to interfere with me or cross my path again, you do so at the peril of your life.\nI'm not quite as cool or forgiving as I sound, I've seen 'nough heartache and strife.\n\nMy grandfather was a duck trapper, he could do it with just dragnets and ropes,\nMy grandmother could sew new dresses out of old cloth, I don't know if they had any dreams or hopes.\n\nI had 'em once though, I suppose, to go along with all the ring-dancing Christmas carols on all the Christmas Eves,\nI left all my dreams and hopes buried under tobacco leaves.\n\nNot always easy kicking someone out, gotta wait awhile, it can be an unpleasant task.\nSometimes somebody wants you to give something up and, tears or not, it's too much to ask."}
{"name": "High Water (For Charley Patton)", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "High water rising, rising night and day,\nAll the gold and silver being stolen away,\nBig Joe Turner looking east and west from the dark room of his mind,\nHe made it to Kansas City, Twelfth Street and Vine.\nNothing standing there, high water everywhere.\n\nHigh water rising, the shacks are sliding down,\nFolks lose their possessions, the folks are leaving town.\nBertha Mason shook it, broke it, then she hung it on a wall,\nSay \"You're dancing with whom they tell you to or you don't dance at all!\"\nIt's tough out there, high water everywhere.\n\nI got a craving love for blazing speed, got a hopped-up Mustang Ford,\nJump into the wagon, love, throw your panties overboard.\nI can write you poems, make a strong man lose his mind,\nI'm no pig without a wig, I hope you treat me kind.\nThings are breaking up out there, high water everywhere.\n\nHigh water rising, six inches 'bove my head,\nCoffins dropping in the street like balloons made out of lead,\nWater pouring into Vicksburg, don't know what I'm gonna do.\n\"Don't reach out for me,\" she said, \"Can't you see I'm drowning too?\"\nIt's rough out there, high water everywhere.\n\nWell, George Lewis told the Englishman, the Italian, and the Jew,\n\"You can't open up your mind, boys, to every conceivable point of view.\"\nThey got Charles Darwin trapped out there on Highway Five,\nJudge says to the High Sheriff, \"I want him dead or alive.\nEither one, I don't care.\" High water everywhere.\n\nWell, the Cuckoo is a pretty bird, she warbles as she flies,\nI'm preaching the word of God, I'm putting out your eyes.\nI asked Fat Nancy for something to eat, she said, \"Take it off the shelf.\nAs great as you are a man, you'll never be greater than yourself.\"\nI told her I didn't really care, high water everywhere.\n\nI'm getting up in the morning, I believe I'll dust my broom,\nKeeping away from the women, I'm giving 'em a-lots of room.\nThunder rolling over Clarksdale, everything looking blue,\nI just can't be happy, love, unless you're happy too.\nIt's bad out there, high water everywhere."}
{"name": "Moonlight", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "The seasons, they are turning and my sad heart is yearning\nTo hear again the songbird's sweet, melodious tone.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?\n\nThe dusky light the day is losing, orchids, poppies, black-eyed Susan,\nThe earth and sky that melts with flesh and bone.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?\n\nThe air is thick and heavy all along the levee\nWhere the geese into the countryside have flown.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?\n\nWell, I'm preaching peace and harmony, the blessings of tranquility,\nYet I know when the time is right to strike.\nI'll take you 'cross the river, dear, you've no need to linger here,\nI know the kinds of things you like.\n\nThe clouds are turning crimson, the leaves fall from the limbs, and\nThe branches cast their shadows over stone.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?\n\nThe boulevards of cypress trees, the masquerade of birds and bees,\nThe petals pink and white the wind has blown.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?\n\nThe trailing moss and mystic glow, the purple blossoms soft as snow,\nMy tears keep flowing to the sea.\nDoctor, lawyer, Indian chief, it takes a thief to catch a thief.\nFor whom does the bell toll for, love? It tolls for you and me.\n\nMy pulse is running through my palm, the sharp hills are rising from\nYellow fields with twisted oaks that groan.\nWon't you meet me out in the moonlight alone?"}
{"name": "Honest with Me", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Well, I'm stranded in the city that never sleeps,\nSome of these women, they just give me the creeps.\nI'm avoiding the south side the best I can,\nThese memories I got, they can strangle a man.\n\nWell, I came ashore in the dead of the night,\nLot of things can get in the way when you're trying to do what's right.\nYou don't understand it, my feeling for you.\nYou'd be honest with me if you only knew.\n\nI'm not sorry for nothing I've done,\nI'm glad I fought, I only wish we'd won.\nThe Siamese twins are coming to town,\nPeople can't wait, they're gathered around.\n\nWhen I left my home, the sky split open wide,\nI never wanted to go back there, I'd rather have died.\nYou don't understand it, my feeling for you.\nYou'd be honest with me if only you knew.\n\nMy woman got a face like a teddy bear,\nShe's tossing a baseball bat in the air,\nThe meat is so tough you can't cut it with a sword,\nI'm crashing my car trunk-first into the board.\n\nYou say my eyes are pretty and my smile is nice?\nWell, I'll sell it to you at a reduced price.\nYou don't understand it, my feeling for you.\nYou'd be honest with me if only you knew.\n\nSome things are too terrible to be true,\nI won't come here no more if it bothers you.\nWell, the Southern Pacific leaving at 9:45,\nI'm having a hard time believing some people were ever alive.\n\nI'm stark naked, but I don't care,\nI'm going off into the woods, I'm hunting bare.\nYou don't understand it, my feeling for you.\nYou'd be honest with me if only you knew.\n\nI'm here to create the new imperial empire,\nI'm gon' do whatever circumstances require.\nI care so much for you, didn't think I could,\nI can't tell my heart that you're no good.\n\nWell, my parents, they warned me not to waste my years\nAnd I still got their advice oozing out of my ears.\nYou don't understand it, my feeling for you.\nWell, you'd be honest with me if only you knew."}
{"name": "Po' Boy", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Man came to the door, I said, \"For whom are you looking?\"\nSays, \"Your wife.\" I said, \"She's busy in the kitchen cooking.\"\nPoor boy, where you been?\nI already told you, won't tell you again.\n\nI say, \"How much you want for that?\" I go into the store.\nMan says, \"Three dollars.\" \"Alright,\" I say, \"will you take four?\"\nPoor boy never say die,\nThings will be alright by and by.\n\nWorking like in the mainline, working like the devil,\nThe game is the same, it's just up on another level.\nPoor boy dressed in black,\nPolice at your back.\n\nPoor boy in a red-hot town\nOut beyond the twinkling stars,\nRiding first-class train, making the round,\nTrying to keep from falling between the cars.\n\nOthello told Desdemona, \"I'm cold, cover me with a blanket.\nBy the way, what happened to that poison wine?\"\nShe said, \"I gave it to you, drink it.\"\nPoor boy laying 'em straight,\nPicking up the cherries falling off the plate.\n\nTime and love has branded me with its claws,\nHad to go to Florida, dodging them Georgia laws.\nPoor boy in the hotel called the \"Palace of Gloom\",\nCall down to room service, says, \"Send up a room.\"\n\nMy mother was a daughter of a wealthy farmer,\nMy father was a traveling salesman, I never met him.\nWhen my mother died, my uncle took me in, he run a funeral parlor,\nHe did a lot of nice things for me and I won't forget him.\n\nAll I know is that I'm thrilled by your kiss,\nI don't know any more than this.\nPoor boy picking up sticks,\nBuild you a house out of mortar and bricks.\n\nKnocking on the door, I say, \"Who is it? Where you from?\"\nMan said, \"Freddy.\" I said, \"Freddy who?\" He said, \"Freddy or not, here I come.\"\nPoor boy 'neath the stars that shine,\nWashing them dishes, feeding them swine."}
{"name": "Cry a While", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "Well, I had to go down and see a guy named Mr. Goldsmith,\nNasty, dirty, double-crossing, back-stabbing phony I didn't have to wanna have to deal with,\nBut I did it for you and all you gave me was a smile.\nWell, I cried for you, now it's your turn to cry a while.\n\nI don't carry dead weight, I'm no flash in the pan,\nAlright, I'll set you straight, can't you see I'm a union man?\nI'm letting the cat out of the cage, I'm keeping a low profile.\nWell, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry a while.\n\nFeel like a fighting rooster, feel better than I ever felt,\nBut the Pennsylvania line's in an awful mess and the Denver road is about to melt.\nI went to the church house, every day I go an extra mile.\nWell, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry a while.\n\nLast night 'cross the alley there was a pounding on the wall,\nIt must have been Don Pasquale making a 2 AM booty call.\nTo break a trusting heart like mine was just your style.\nWell, I cried for you, now it's your turn to cry a while.\n\nI'm on the fringes of the night, fighting back tears that I can't control,\nSome people, they ain't human, they got no heart or soul.\nWell, I'm crying to the lord, trying to be meek and mild.\nYes, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry a while.\n\nWell, there are preachers in the pulpit and the babies in the cribs,\nI'm longing for that sweet fat that sticks to your ribs.\nI'm gon' buy me a barrel of whiskey, I'll die before I turn senile.\nYes, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry a while.\n\nWell, you bet on a horse and it, it ran the wrong way,\nI always said you'd be sorry and today could be the day.\nI might need a good lawyer, could be your funeral, my trial.\nWell, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry a while."}
{"name": "Sugar Baby", "album": "Love and Theft", "album_year": "2001", "text": "I got my back to the sun 'cause the light is too intense,\nI can see what everybody in the world is up against.\nCan't turn back, you can't come back, sometimes we push too far,\nOne day you'll open up your eyes and you'll see where we are.\n\nSugar baby, get on down the road, you ain't got no brains no how,\nYou went years without me, might as well keep going now.\n\nSome of these bootleggers, they make pretty good stuff,\nPlenty of places to hide things here if you wanna hide 'em bad enough.\nI'm staying with Aunt Sally, but, you know, she's not really my aunt.\nSome of these memories you can learn to live with and some of 'em you can't.\n\nSugar baby, get on down the line, you ain't got no brains no how,\nYou went years without me, you might as well keep going now.\n\nThe ladies down in Darktown, they're doing the Darktown strut,\nYou always got to be prepared, but you never know for what.\nThere ain't no limit to the amount of trouble women bring,\nLove is pleasing, love is teasing, love not an evil thing.\n\nSugar baby, get on down the road, you ain't got no brains no how,\nYou went years without me, might as well keep going now.\n\nEvery moment of existence seems like some dirty trick,\nHappiness can come suddenly and leave just as quick.\nAny minute of the day the bubble could burst,\nTry to make things better for someone, sometimes you just end up making it a thousand times worse.\n\nSugar baby, get on down the road, you ain't got no brains no how,\nYou went years without me, might as well keep going now.\n\nYour charms have broken many a heart and mine is surely one,\nYou got a way of tearing a world apart. Love, see what you've done?\nJust as sure as we're living, just as sure as you're born,\nLook up, look up, seek your maker 'fore Gabriel blows his horn.\n\nSugar baby, get on down the line, you ain't got no sense no how,\nYou went years without me, you might as well keep going now."}
{"name": "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here with You", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Throw my ticket in the wind.\nThrow my mattress out there too.\nThrow my letters in the sand 'cause you got to understand\nThat today I'll be staying here with you.\n\nI could have left this town by noon,\nBy the night and been to some place new,\nBut I was feeling a little bit scattered and your love was all that mattered,\nSo today I'll be staying here with you.\nGet ready 'cause today I'll be staying here with you.\n\nIs it really any wonder,\nThe changes we put on each other's heads?\nYou came down on me like white thunder,\nI left my dreams on the riverbed.\nI can hear that lonesome whistle blowing.\nI hear them semis rolling too.\nIf there's a traveller on the road, then let him have my load\n'Cause today I'll be staying here with you.\n\nI can hear that lonesome whistle blowing.\nI hear them semis rolling too.\nIf there's a traveller on this road, then let him have my load\n'Cause today I'll be staying here with you,\n'Cause today I'll be staying here with you."}
{"name": "It Ain't Me, Babe", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Go away from my window,\nLeave at your own chosen speed.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI'm not the one you need.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho's never weak but always strong,\nTo protect you and defend you\nWhether you are right or wrong,\nSomeone to open each and every door,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo lightly from the ledge, babe,\nGo lightly on the ground.\nI'm not the one you want, babe,\nI will only let you down.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho will promise never to part,\nSomeone to close his eyes for you,\nSomeone to close his hear,\nSomeone who will die for you and more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe.\n\nGo melt back in the night,\nEverything inside is made of stone.\nThere's nothing in here moving\nAnd, anyway, I'm not alone.\nYou say you're looking for someone\nWho'll pick you up each time you fall,\nTo gather flowers constantly,\nAnd to come each time you call,\nA lover for your life and nothing more,\nBut it ain't me, babe,\nNo, no, no, it ain't me, babe,\nIt ain't me you're looking for, babe."}
{"name": "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd where have you been, my darling young one?\nI've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,\nI've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,\nI've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,\nI've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,\nI've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,\nAnd it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you see, my darling young one?\nI saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,\nI saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,\nI saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping,\nI saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleeding,\nI saw a white ladder all covered with water,\nI saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,\nI saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.\n\nWhat did you hear, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what did you hear, my darling young one?\nI heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warning,\nI heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,\nI heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazing,\nI heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening,\nI heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing,\nI heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,\nI heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.\n\nOh, what did you meet, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd who did you meet, my darling young one?\nI met a young child beside a dead pony,\nI met a white man who walked a black dog,\nI met a young woman whose body was burning,\nI met a young girl - she gave me a rainbow,\nI met one man who was wounded in love,\nI met another man who was wounded in hatred,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.\n\nAnd what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?\nAnd what'll you do now, my darling young one?\nI'm going back out 'fore the rain starts a-falling,\nI'll walk to the depths of the deepest, dark forest,\nWhere the people are many and their hands are all empty,\nWhere the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,\nWhere the home in the valley meets the damp, dirty prison\nAnd the executioner's face is always well-hidden,\nWhere hunger is ugly, where the souls are forgotten,\nWhere black is the color, where none is the number,\nAnd I'll tell it and speak it and think it and breathe it,\nAnd reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,\nAnd I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking,\nBut I'll know my song well before I start singing,\nAnd it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,\nIt's a hard rain's a-gonna fall."}
{"name": "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll\nWith a cane that he twirled 'round his diamond ring finger\nAt a Baltimore hotel society gathering\nAnd the cops was called in and his weapon took from him\nAs they rode him in custody down to the station\nAnd booked William Zantzinger for first-degree murder.\nBut you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nWilliam Zantzinger, who at twenty-four years\nOwns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres,\nWith rich, wealthy parents who provide and protect him\nAnd high office relations in the politics of Maryland,\nReacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders\nAnd swear-words and sneering and his tongue, it was a-snarling\nAnd, in a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking.\nBut, you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nHattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen,\nShe was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children,\nWho carried the dishes and took out the garbage\nAnd never sat once at the head of the table\nAnd didn't even talk to the people at the table,\nWho just cleaned up all the food from the table\nAnd emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,\nGot killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane\nThat sailed through the air and came down through the room,\nDoomed and determined to destroy all the gentle,\nAnd she never done nothing to William Zantzinger.\nAnd you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nTake the rag away from your face! Now ain't the time for your tears.\n\nIn the courtroom of honor the judge pounded his gavel\nTo show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level\nAnd that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded\nAnd that even the nobles get properly handled\nOnce that the cops have chased after and caught 'em\nAnd that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,\nStared at the person who killed for no reason,\nWho just happened to be feeling that way without warning,\nAnd he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,\nAnd handed out strongly for penalty and repentance\nWilliam Zantzinger with a six-month sentence.\nAh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,\nBury the rag deep in your face for now's the time for your tears."}
{"name": "Romance in Durango", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun,\nDust on my face and my cape,\nMe and Magdalena on the run,\nI think this time we should escape.\n\nSold my guitar to the baker's son\nFor a few crumbs and a place to hide,\nBut I can get another one\nAnd I'll play for Magdalena as we ride.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nPast the Aztec ruins and the ghosts of our people,\nHoofbeats like castanets on stone,\nAt night I dream of bells in the village steeple,\nThen I see the bloody face of Ramon.\n\nWas it me that shot him down in the cantina?\nWas it my hand that held the gun?\nCome, let us fly, my Magdalena,\nThe dogs are barking and what's done is done.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nAt the corrida we'll sit in the shade\nAnd watch the young torero stand alone,\nWe'll drink tequila where our grandfathers stayed\nWhen they rode with Villa into Torreon.\n\nThen the padre will recite the prayers of old\nIn the little church a-this side of tow,\nI will wear new boots and an earring of gold,\nYou'll shine with diamonds in your wedding gown.\n\nThe way, it is long, but the end is near,\nAlready the fiesta has begun,\nThe face of God will appear\nWith the serpent eyes of obsidian.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango.\n\nWas that the thunder that I heard?\nMy head is vibrating, I feel a sharp pain.\nCome sit by me, don't say a word.\nOh, can it be that I am slain?\n\nQuick, Magdalena, take my gun,\nLook up in the hills, that flash of light.\nAim well, my little one,\nWe may not make it through the night.\n\nNo llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila,\nSoon the horse will take us to Durango.\nAgarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone,\nSoon you will be dancing the fandango."}
{"name": "Isis", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "I married Isis on the fifth day of May,\nBut I could not hold on to her very long,\nSo I cut off a-my hair and I rode straight away\nFor the wild, unknown country where I could not go wrong.\n\nI came to a high place of darkness and light,\nDividing line ran through the center of town,\nI hitched up my pony to a post on the right,\nWent into the laundry to wash my clothes down.\n\nA man in the corner approached me for a match,\nI knew right away he was not ordinary,\nHe said, \"Are you looking for something easy to catch?\"\nSaid, \"I got no money.\" He said, \"That ain't necessary.\"\n\nWe set out that night for the cold in the north,\nI gave him my blanket and he gave me his word,\nI said, \"Where are we going?\" He said we'd be back by the fourth.\nI said, \"That's the best news that I've ever heard.\"\n\nI was thinking about turquoise, I was thinking about gold,\nI was thinking about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace,\nAs we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold,\nI was thinking about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless,\n\nHow she told me that one day we would meet up again\nAnd things would be different the next time we wed\nIf I only could a-hang on and just be her friend -\nI still can't remember all the best things she said.\n\nWe came to the pyramids all embedded in ice,\nHe said, \"There's a body I'm trying to find.\nIf I carry it out, it'll bring a good price.\"\n'Twas a-then that I knew what he had on his mind.\n\nThe wind, it was howling and the snow was outrageous,\nWe chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn.\nWhen he died, I was hoping that it wasn't contagious,\nBut I made up my mind that I had to go on.\n\nI broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty.\nThere was no jewels, no nothing! I felt I've been had\nWhen I saw that my partner was just being friendly,\nWhen I took up his offer, I must've been mad.\n\nI picked up his body and I dragged him inside,\nThrew him down in the hole and I put back the cover.\nI said a quick prayer and I felt satisfied,\nThen I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.\n\nShe was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise,\nBlinded by sleep and in need of a bed.\nI came in from the east with the sun in my eyes,\nI cursed her one time, then I rode on ahead.\n\nShe said, \"Where you been?\" I said, \"No place special.\"\nShe said, \"You look a-different.\" I said, \"Well, I guess.\"\nShe said, \"You been gone.\" I said, \"That's only natural.\"\nShe said, \"You gonna stay?\" I said, \"If you want me to, yes!\"\n\nIsis, oh, Isis, you're a mystical child,\nWhat drives a-me to you is what drives me insane,\nI still can remember the way that you smiled\nOn the fifth day of May in the drizzling a-rain."}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Simple Twist of Fate", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "They sat together in the park as the evening sky grew dark,\nShe looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones,\n'Twas then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight\nAnd watched out for a simple twist of fate.\n\nThey walked along by the old canal, a little confused - I remember well -\nAnd stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burning bright,\nHe felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train,\nMoving with a simple twist of fate.\n\nA saxophone someplace far off played as she was walking on by the arcade,\nAs the light burst through a beat-up shade, where he was waking up,\nShe dropped a coin into the cup above a blind man at the gate\nAnd forgot about a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe woke up, the room was bare, he didn't see her anywhere,\nHe told himself he didn't care, pushed the window open wide,\nFelt that emptiness inside to which he just could not relate,\nBrought on by a simple twist of fate.\n\nHe hears the ticking of the clocks and walks along with a parrot that talks,\nHunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in,\nMaybe she'll pick him out again - how long must he wait\nOne more time for a simple twist of fate?\n\nPeople tell me it's a sin to know and feel too much within,\nI still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring,\nShe was born in spring, but I was born too late -\nBlame it on a simple twist of fate."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "Mama, You Been on My Mind", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Perhaps it's the color of the sun cut flat\nAnd covering the crossroads I'm standing at\nOr maybe it's the weather or something like that,\nBut, mama, you been on my mind.\n\nI don't mean trouble, please don't put me down or get upset,\nI am not pleading or saying \"I can't forget you\",\nI do not pace the floor bowed down and bent, but yet,\nMama, you been on my mind.\n\nEven though my eyes are hazy and my thoughts, they might be narrow,\nWhere you been don't bother me or bring me down with sorrow,\nI don't mind who you'll be waking with tomorrow,\nMama, you're just on my mind.\n\nI'm not asking you to say words like \"yes\" or \"no\",\nPlease understand me, I have no place I'm calling you to go,\nI'm just whispering to myself, so I can't pretend that I don't know,\nMama, you are on my mind.\n\nWhen you wake up in the morning, baby, look inside your mirror,\nYou know I won't be next to you, you know I won't be near,\nI'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear\nAs someone who has had you on his mind."}
{"name": "I Shall Be Released", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "They say everything can be replaced,\nYet every distance is not near,\nSo I remember every face\nOf every man who put me here.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nThey say every man needs protection,\nThey say every man must fall,\nYet I swear I see my reflection\nSomewhere so high above this wall.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released.\n\nYonder down here in this lonely crowd,\nThere's man who swears he's not to blame.\nAll day long I hear him shouting loud,\nCrying out that he been framed.\nI see my light come shining from the west out to the east,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released,\nAny day now, any day now, I shall be released."}
{"name": "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last,\nBut whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,\nYonder stands your orphan with his gun,\nCrying like a fire in the sun.\nLook out, the saints are coming through\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nThe highway is for gamblers, better use your sense,\nTake what you have gathered from coincidence,\nThe empty-handed painter from your streets\nIs drawing crazy patterns on your sheets,\nThe sky too is folding over you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nAll your seasick sailors, they're all rowing home,\nAll your reindeer armies, they're all going home,\nThat lover, who just walked out your door,\nHas taken all his blankets from the floor,\nThe carpet too is moving under you,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue.\n\nLeave your stepping-stones behind, something calls for you,\nForget the dead you've left, they will not follow you,\nThe vagabond who's rapping at your door\nIs standing in the clothes that you once wore.\nStrike another match, go start anew,\nAnd it's all over now, Baby Blue."}
{"name": "Love Minus Zero/No Limit", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "My love, she speaks like silence,\nWithout ideals or violence,\nDoesn't have to say she's faithful,\nYet she's true like ice, like fire.\nPeople carry roses,\nMake promises by the hours,\nMy love, she laughs like the flowers,\nValentines can't buy her.\n\nIn the dime-stores and bus-stations\nPeople talk over situations,\nRead books and repeat quotations,\nDraw conclusions on the wall.\nSome speak of the future,\nMy love, she speaks softly,\nKnows there's no success like failure\nAnd that failure's no success at all.\n\nThe cloak-and-dagger dangles,\nMadams light the candles,\nIn ceremonies of the horsemen\nEven the pawn must hold a grudge.\nStatues made of matchsticks\nCrumble into one another,\nMy love winks, she doesn't bother,\nShe knows too much to argue or to judge.\n\nThe bridge at midnight trembles,\nThe country doctor rambles,\nBankers' nieces seek perfection,\nExpecting all the gifts that wise men bring.\nThe wind howls like a hammer,\nThe night blows rainy,\nMy love, she's like some raven\nAt my window with a broken wing.\n\nThank you."}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, she was lying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nTheir folks, they said their lives together sure was a-gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd he was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on his shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, he's paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when they first met, soon to be divorced,\nHe helped her out of a jam, I guess, but he used a little too much force.\nThen they drove that car as far as they could, abandoned it out west,\nSplitting up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at him as he was a-walking away,\nSaying over her shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nHe had a job in Santa Fe working in an old hotel,\nBut he never did like it all that much and one day it just a-went to hell,\nSo he drifted down to New Orleans, lucky not to be destroyed,\nWhere he got him a job on a fishing boat docked outside Delacroix,\nBut all the while he was alone, the past was close behind,\nHe seen a lot of women but she never escaped his mind and he just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there right beside my chair, said, \"Don't tell me, let me guess your name,\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nTill he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it all came crashing down, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back on again, I got to get to them somehow,\nAll the faces we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are truck drivers' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nThank y'all."}
{"name": "The Water Is Wide", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "The water is wide and I can\u2019t cross over.\nGive me the wings and I could fly,\nBuild me a boat that can carry two\nAnd both shall row, my love and I.\n\nThere's a ship and it sails on the sea,\nLoaded deep as deep can be,\nBut not as deep as the love I\u2019m in.\nI know not if I sink or swim.\n\nI leaned my back up against an oak,\nThinking it was a trusty tree,\nBut the first it bent and then it broke\nJust like my own false love to me.\n\nNow, love is gentle, love is kind,\nGay as a jewel when first it\u2019s new,\nBut love grows old and waxes cold\nAnd fades away like some morning dew.\n\nThe water is wide and I can\u2019t cross over\nAnd neither have I wings to fly.\nBuild me a boat that can carry two\nAnd both shall row, my love and I."}
{"name": "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Well, I ride on a mail-train, baby, can't buy a thrill,\nI've been up all night, baby, leaning on the windowsill.\nWell, if I die on top of the hill\nAnd if I don't make it, you know my baby will.\n\nDon't the moon look good, honey, shining through the trees?\nDon't the brakeman look good, baby, flagging down the Double E?\nDon't the sun look good going down over the sea?\nBut, don't my gal look fine when she's chasing after me?\n\nWintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost,\nI went to tell everybody, but I could not get across.\nWell, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss.\nDon't say I never warned you if your train gets lost."}
{"name": "Oh, Sister", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Yeah, here's one for ya.\n\nOh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms,\nYou should not treat me like a stranger,\nOur Father would not like the way that you act\nAnd you must realize the danger.\n\nOh, sister, am I not a brother to you?\nAnd one deserving of affection?\nAnd is our purpose not the same on this earth,\nTo love and follow His direction?\n\nWe grew up together from the cradle to the grave,\nWe died and were reborn and then mysteriously saved.\nOh, sister, when I come to knock on your door,\nDon't turn away, you'll create sorrow.\nTime is an ocean, but it ends at the shore:\nYou may not see me tomorrow."}
{"name": "Hurricane", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "This song is called \"Hurricane\". If you got any political pull at all, maybe you can help us get this man outta jail, back onto the streets.\n\nPistol-shots ring out on a barroom night,\nEnter Patty Valentine from the outer hall,\nShe sees a bartender in a pool of blood,\nCries out, \"My God, they've killed 'em all!\"\nHere come the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nThree bodies lying there does Patty see\nAnd another man named Bello, moving mysteriously.\n\"I didn't do it!\" he says and he throws up his hands,\n\"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand!\nI saw them leaving,\" he says and he stops,\n\"One of us had better call up the cops.\"\nAnd so Patty calls the cops\nAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.\n\nMeanwhile far away in another part of town,\nRubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,\nNumber one contender for the middleweight crown\nHad no idea what kind of shit was about to go down\nWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the road -\nJust like the time before and the time before that.\nIn Paterson, that's the way things go:\nIf you're black, you might as well not show up on the street 'less you wanna draw the heat.\n\nAlfred Bello laid this rap on the cops,\nHe and Arthur Dexter Bradley went a-prowling around.\nSaw two men running out, they looked like middleweights,\nJumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.\nAnd Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head,\nCop said, \"Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead!\"\nSo they took him to the infirmary\nAnd, though this man could hardly see, they told him he could identify the guilty men.\n\nFour in the morning and they haul Rubin in,\nTook him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.\nThe wounded man looks up through his one, dying eye,\nSaid, \"Why'd you bring him in here for! He ain't the guy!\"\nLet's hear the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nFour months later, the ghettoes are in flame,\nRubin's in South America, fighting for his name,\nWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game\nAnd the cops are putting the screws to him, looking for somebody to blame.\n\"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?\nRemember you said you saw the getaway car?\nThink you'd like to play ball with the law?\nThink it mighta been that fighter that you saw running that night? Don't forget, now, you are white.\"\n\nArthur Dexter Bradley said, \"I'm really not sure.\"\nThe cops said, \"A poor boy like you could use a break -\nWe got you for that motel job. We were talking to your friend, Bello,\nYou don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.\nYou'll be doing society a favor,\nThat son-of-a-bitch is brave and getting braver.\nWe wanna put his ass in stir,\nWe wanna pin this triple murder on him - he ain't no 'Gentleman Jim'.\"\n\nRubin could take a man out with just one punch,\nBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.\n\"It's my work,\" he'd say, \"and I do it for the pay.\nWhen it's over, I'd just as soon go on my way\"--\nUp into some paradise\nWhere the trout streams flow and the air is nice\nAnd ride a horse along the trail,\nBut then they took him to the jailhouse, where they try to turn a man into a mouse.\n\nAll of Rubin's cards were marked in advance,\nThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance:\nThe judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums,\nTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum,\nAnd to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger,\nNo one doubted that he pulled the trigger,\nThough they could not produce the gun,\nThe D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.\n\nRubin Carter was a-falsely tried,\nCrime was murder one and guess who testified?\n--Arthur Dexter Bradley and Bello and they both lied\nAnd the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.\nHow can the life of such a man\nBe in the palm of some fool's hand?\nTo see him obviously framed\nCouldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game.\n\nNow all the criminals in their coats and their ties\nAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise\nWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell,\nAn innocent man in a living hell.\nThat's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nBut it won't be over till they clear his name\nAnd give him back the time he's done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world."}
{"name": "One More Cup of Coffee (Valley Below)", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Your breath is sweet, your eyes are like two jewels in the sky,\nYour back is straight, your hair is smooth on the pillow where you lie,\nBut I don't sense affection, no gratitude or love,\nYour loyalty is not to me but to the stars above.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour daddy, he's an outlaw and a wanderer by trade,\nHe'll teach you how to pick and choose and how to throw the blade,\nHe oversees his kingdom so no stranger does intrude,\nHis voice, it trembles as he's calling out for another plate of food.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below.\n\nYour sister sees the future like your mama and yourself,\nYou've never learned to read or write, there's no books upon your shelf,\nAnd your pleasure knows no limits, your voice is like a meadowlark,\nBut your heart is like an ocean, mysterious and dark.\nOne more cup of coffee for the road,\nOne more cup of coffee 'fore I go to the valley below."}
{"name": "Sara", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "I laid on the dune and I looked at the sky\nWhen the children were babies and played on the beach,\nYou came up behind me, I saw you go by,\nYou were always so close and still within reach.\nSara, Sara, whatever made you wanna change your mind?\nSara, Sara, so easy to look at, so hard to define.\n\nI can still see them playing with their pails in the sand,\nThey run to the water their buckets to fill,\nI can still see the shells falling out of their hands\nAs they follow each other back up the hill.\nSara, Sara, sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life,\nSara, Sara, radiant jewel, mystical wife.\n\nSleeping in the woods by a fire in the night,\nWhere you fought for my soul and made up against the odds.\nI was too young to know you were doing it right\nAnd you did it with strength that belonged to the gods.\nSara, Sara, wherever we travel, we're never apart,\nSara, Sara, beautiful lady so dear to my heart.\n\nI can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells -\nI'd taken the cure and had just gotten through,\nStaying up for days in the Chelsea Hotel,\nWriting \"Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands\" for you.\nSara, Sara, it's all so clear, I could never forget,\nSara, Sara, loving you is one thing I'll never regret.\n\nNow the beach is deserted except for some kelp\nAnd a piece of an old ship that lies on the shore,\nYou always responded when I needed your help,\nYou gave me a map and a key to your door.\nSara, Sara, glamorous nymph with an arrow and bow,\nSara, Sara, don't ever leave me, don't ever go."}
{"name": "Just Like a Woman", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Just Like a Woman? Alright, we'll -- we'll try it.\n\nNobody feels any pain tonight as I stand inside the rain.\nEverybody knows baby's got new clothes,\nBut lately I see her ribbons and her bow have fallen from her curls.\nBut she takes just like a woman,\nShe aches just like a woman,\nAnd she makes love just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nQueen Mary, she's my friend. Yes, I believe I'll go see her again.\nNobody has to guess that a-baby can't be blessed\nTill she sees finally she's like all the rest with her fog, her amphetamine, and her pearls.\nShe takes just like a woman,\nAnd she aches just like a woman,\nAnd she makes love just like a woman, and she breaks just like a little girl.\n\nIt was raining from the first and I was a-dying out there of thirst so I came in here.\nAnd your long-time curse hurts, but what's worse is this pain in here.\nI can't stay in here - ain't it clear\nThat I just don't fit? Yes, I believe it's a-time for us to quit.\nWhen we meet again, introduced as friends,\nPlease don't let on that you knew me when I was a-hungry and it was your world.\nWell, you take just like a woman,\nAnd you fake just like a woman,\nAnd you even make love just like a woman, but you break just like a little girl."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 5: Bob Dylan Live 1975, The Rolling Thunder Revue", "album_year": "2002", "text": "Mama, wipe the blood off of my face,\nI can't see through it anymore.\nI need someone to talk to and a new hiding place,\nI feel like I'm looking at a-heaven's door.\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, I can hear that thunder roar,\nGoing down from God's distant shore.\nI can hear Him calling for my soul,\nFeel I'm knocking on heaven's door.\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nThanks for coming. We'll be in the area for a few days. Maybe we'll see you tomorrow at 9."}
{"name": "The Times They Are a-Changin'", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "Come gather round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled,\nThe battle outside is raging,\nIt'll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand,\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly fading.\nPlease get outta the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor your times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn and the curse, it is cast,\nThe slowest one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past,\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "Spanish Harlem Incident", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem\nCannot hold you to its heat.\nYour temperature is too hot for taming.\nYour flaming feet are burning up the street.\nI am homeless, come and take me\nInto reach of your rattling drums.\nLet me know, babe, all about my fortune\nDown along my restless palms.\n\nGypsy gal, you got me swallowed.\nI have fallen far beneath\nYour pearly eyes, so fast and slashing,\nAnd your flashing diamond teeth.\nThe night is pitch black, come and make my\nPale face fit into place, oh, please!\nLet me know, babe, that--will you surround me? -\nIf it's you my lifelines trace.\n\nI've been wondering all about me\nEver since I seen you there.\nOn the cliffs of your wildcat charms I'm riding.\nI know I'm 'round you, but I don't know where.\nYou have slayed me, you have made me.\nI got to laugh halfways off my heels.\nI got to know, babe, if it's you I'm wanting,\nSo I can know if I'm really real."}
{"name": "Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "This is called \"Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues\". This is a fictitious story.\n\nWell, I was feeling sad and kind of blue,\nI didn't know what I was gonna do.\nThe Communists were coming around,\nThey were in the air, they were on the ground,\nThey were all over!\n\nSo I ran down most hurriedly\nAnd joined the John Birch Society,\nI got me a secret membership card,\nWent back to my backyard,\nStarting look on the sidewalk,\n'Neath the rose bush.\n\nWell, I was looking everywhere for them god-darned Reds,\nI got up in the morning, looked under my bed,\nLooked behind the kitchen, behind the door,\nEven tore loose the kitchen floor.\nI couldn't find any.\n\nI looked beneath the sofa, beneath the chair,\nLooking for them Reds everywhere.\nI looked way up my chimney-hole,\nEven deep down inside my toilet bowl.\nThey got away!\n\nI heard some footsteps by the front porch door,\nSo I grabbed my shotgun from the floor,\nI snuck around the house with a huff and a hiss,\nSaying, \"Hands up, you Communists!\"\nIt was the mailman!\nHe punched me out!\n\nWell, I quit my job so I could work alone,\nI got a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes,\nFollowed some clues from my detective bag,\nI discovered there was red stripes in the American flag!\nDid you know about Betty Ross?\n\nWell, I was sitting home alone and I started to sweat,\nI figured they was in my television set!\nI peeked behind the picture frame\nAnd got a shock from my feet that hit my brain.\nThem Reds did it,\nThe ones on Hootenanny!\n\nWell, I finally started thinking straight\nWhen I run outta things to investigate.\nI couldn't imagine doing anything else,\nSo now I'm home investigating myself!\nHope I don't find out too much!\nGood God!\n\nWho cares?"}
{"name": "To Ramona", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "Ramona, come closer, shut softly your watery eyes.\nThe pangs of your sadness will pass as your senses will rise\nFor the flowers of the city, though breath-like, get death-like at times\nAnd there's no use in trying to deal with the dying, though I cannot explain that in lines.\n\nYour cracked country lips I still wish to kiss as to be by the strength of your skin.\nYour magnetic movement still captures the minutes I'm in.\nBut it grieves my heart, love, to see you trying to be a part of a world that just don't exist.\nIt's all just a scheme, babe, a vacuum, a dream, babe, that sucks you into feeling like this.\n\nI can see that your head has been twisted and fed with worthless foam from the mouth.\nI can tell you are torn between staying and returning on back to the South.\nYou've been fooled into thinking that the finishing end is at hand.\nYet there's no one to beat you, no one to defeat you 'cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.\n\nI've heard you say many times that you're better than no one and no one is better than you.\nIf you really believe that, you know you got nothing to win and nothing to lose.\nFrom fixtures and forces and friends your sorrow does stem,\nThat hype you and type you, making you feel that you must be exactly like them.\n\nI'd forever talk to you, but soon my words, they would turn into a meaningless ring\nFor deep in my heart I know there's no help I can bring.\nEverything passes, everything changes. Just do what you think you should do.\nAnd someday maybe - who knows, baby? - I'll come and be crying to you."}
{"name": "Who Killed Davey Moore?", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "This is, uh-- This is a song about a boxer--boxer. This is gonna be to do with boxing. This is a song about a boxer. And, uh, it's, uh, it's not even having to with a boxer really. It's got nothing to do with nothing. Well, I shit all these words together. That's all. This is, uh, taken out of the newspapers. Nothing has been changed 'cept the words.\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not I,\" said the referee,\n\"Don't point your finger at me.\nI coulda stopped it in the eighth\nAnd maybe kept him from his fate,\nBut the crowd woulda booed, I'm sure,\nAt not getting their money's worth.\nIt's too bad that he had to go,\nBut there was a pressure on me too, you know.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nNo, you can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not us,\" said the angry crowd,\nWhose screams filled the arena loud,\n\"It's too bad he died that night,\nBut we just like to see a fight.\nWe didn't mean for him to meet his death,\nWe just meant to see some sweat -\nThere ain't nothing wrong in that.\nIt wasn't us that made him fall,\nNo, you can't blame us at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" said his manager,\nPuffing on a big cigar,\n\"It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,\nI always thought that he was well.\nIt's too bad for his wife and kids he's dead,\nBut, if he was sick, he shoulda said.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nNo, you can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" says the gambling man\nWith his ticket stub still in his hand,\n\"My--it wasn't me that knocked him down,\nMy hands never touched him none,\nI didn't commit no ugly sin -\nAnyway, I put money on him to win.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nNo, you can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" says the boxing writer,\nPounding print in his old typewriter,\nSaying, \"Boxing ain't to blame,\nThere's just as much danger in a football game,\" \nSaying, \"Fist-fighting is here to stay,\nIt's just the old American way.\nIt wasn't me that made him fall,\nNo, you can't blame me at all.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?\n\n\"Not me,\" says the man whose fists\nLaid him low in a cloud of mist,\nWho came here from Cuba's door\nWhere boxing ain't allowed no more,\n\"I hit him, I hit him, yes, it's true,\nBut that's what I am paid to do.\nDon't say 'murder', don't say 'kill',\nIt was destiny, it was God's will.\"\n\nWho killed Davey Moore?\nWhy and what's the reason for?"}
{"name": "Gates of Eden", "album": "The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964, Concert at Philharmonic Hall", "album_year": "2004", "text": "This is called \"A Sacrilegious Lullaby in--in D Minor\". (Strums some strings.) That's the D minor. No, in all seriousness-- (Audience member interjects: \"Why'd you pick it?\") Well, I don't know why. This is, this a love song. It's called the \"Gates of Eden\".\n\nOf war and peace the truth just twists.\nIts curfew-gull, it glides.\nUpon four-legged forest-clouds\nThe cowboy angel rides\nWith his candle lit into the sun,\nThough its glow is waxed in black -\nAll except when 'neath the trees of Eden.\n\nThe lamp-post stands with folded arms,\nIts iron claws attached\nTo curbs 'neath holes where babies wail,\nThough its shadow's metal badge\nAll and all can only fall\nWith a crashing, but meaningless blow.\nNo sound ever comes from the gates of Eden.\n\nThe savage soldier sticks his head in sand\nAnd then complains\nUnto the shoe-less hunter who's gone deaf,\nBut still remains\nUpon the beach, where hound dogs bay\nAt ships with tattooed sails,\nHeading for the gates of Eden.\n\nWith a time-rusted compass blade,\nAladdin and his lamp\nSits with Utopian hermit-monks\nSidesaddle on the Golden Calf.\nAnd, on their promises of paradise,\nYou will not hear a laugh -\nAll except inside the gates of Eden.\n\nRelationships of ownership,\nThey whisper in the wings\nTo those condemned to act accordingly\nAnd wait for succeeding kings.\nAnd I try to harmonize with songs\nThe lonesome sparrow sings.\nThere are no kings inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe motorcycle, Black Madonna,\nTwo-wheeled, gypsy queen\nAnd her silver-studded phantom cause\nThe gray-flannel dwarf to scream\nAs he weeps to wicked birds of prey,\nWho pick up on his breadcrumb sins.\nAnd there are no sins inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe kingdoms of experience,\nIn the precious winds they rot\nWhile paupers change possessions,\nEach one wishing for what the other has got.\nAnd the princess and the prince discuss\nWhat's real and what is not.\nIt doesn't matter inside the gates of Eden.\n\nThe foreign sun, it squints upon\nA bed that is never mine\nAs friends and other strangers\nFrom their fates try to resign,\nLeaving men wholly, totally free\nTo do anything they wish to do, but die.\nAnd there are no trials inside the gates of Eden.\n\nAt dawn my lover comes to me\nAnd tells me of her dreams\nWith no attempts to shovel the glimpse\nInto the ditch of what each one means.\nAt times I think there are no words\nBut these to tell what's true.\nAnd there are no truths outside the gates of Eden."}
{"name": "Blowin' in the Wind", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nHow many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many years can a mountain exist\nBefore it is washed to the sea?\nYes, and how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, and how many times can a man turn his head\nAnd pretend that he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind.\n\nYes, and how many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, and how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, and how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,\nThe answer is blowing in the wind."}
{"name": "The Times They Are A-Changin'", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Come gather 'round, people, wherever you roam,\nAnd admit that the waters around you have grown,\nAnd accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.\nIf your time to you is worth saving,\nThen you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, writers and critics who prophesize with your pen,\nAnd keep your eyes wide - the chance won't come again,\nAnd don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin\nAnd there's no telling who that it's naming\nFor the loser now will be later to win\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, senators, congressmen, please heed the call,\nDon't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall\nFor he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled.\nThe battle outside raging\nWill soon shake your windows and rattle your walls\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nCome, mothers and fathers throughout the land,\nAnd don't criticize what you can't understand.\nYour sons and your daughters are beyond your command,\nYour old road is rapidly aging.\nPlease get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand\nFor the times, they are a-changing.\n\nThe line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast,\nThe slow one now will later be fast\nAs the present now will later be past.\nThe order is rapidly fading\nAnd the first one now will later be last\nFor the times, they are a-changing."}
{"name": "Mr. Tambourine Man", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough I know that evening's empire has returned into sand,\nVanished from my hand,\nLeft me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping,\nMy weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,\nI have no one to meet,\nAnd the ancient, empty street's too dead for dreaming.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nTake me on a trip upon your magic, swirling ship,\nMy senses have been stripped,\nMy hands can't feel to grip,\nMy toes, too numb to step, wait only for my boot-heels to be wandering.\nI'm ready to go anywhere,\nI'm ready for to fade\nInto my own parade,\nCast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nThough you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun,\nIt's not aimed at anyone,\nIt's just escaping on the run, and but for the sky there are no fences facing.\nAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme\nTo your tambourine in time,\nIt's just a ragged clown behind,\nI wouldn't pay it any mind,\nIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you.\n\nAnd take me disappearing through the smoke-rings of my mind,\nDown the foggy ruins of time,\nFar past the frozen leaves,\nThe haunted, frightened trees,\nOut to the windy beach,\nFar from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.\nYes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,\nSilhouetted by the sea,\nCircled by the circus sands,\nWith all memory and fate\nDriven deep beneath the waves,\nLet me forget about today until tomorrow.\n\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.\nHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,\nIn the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you."}
{"name": "Like a Rolling Stone", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Once upon a time you dressed so fine,\nThrew the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?\nPeople'd call, say, \"Beware, doll,\nYou're bound to fall.\" You thought they were all kidding you.\nYou used to laugh about\nEverybody that was hanging out.\nNow you don't talk so loud.\nNow you don't seem so proud\nAbout having to be scrounging your next meal.\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be without a home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you gone to the finest school, alright, Ms. Lonely,\nBut you know you only used to get juiced in it.\nNobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street\nAnd now you're gonna have to get used to it.\nYou said you'd never compromise\nWith the mystery tramp, but now you realize\nHe's not selling any alibis\nAs you stare into the vacuum of his eyes\nAnd say, \"Do you want to make a deal?\"\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nA complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, you never turned around to see the frowns\nOn the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you.\nYou never understood that it ain't no good,\nYou shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you.\nYou used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat,\nWho carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.\nAin't it hard when you discover that\nHe really wasn't where it's at\nAfter he took from you everything he could steal?\nHow does it feel?\nHow does it feel\nTo have--be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?\n\nOh, princess on the steeple and all the pretty people,\nThey're all drinking, thinking that they got it made,\nExchanging all precious gifts,\nBut you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.\nYou used to be so amused\nAt Napoleon in rags and the language that he used.\nGo to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse.\nWhen you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.\nYou're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.\nHow does it feel?\nOh, how does it feel\nTo be on your own,\nWith no direction home,\nLike a complete unknown,\nLike a rolling stone?"}
{"name": "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Well, they'll stone you when you're trying to be so good,\nThey'll stone you just like they said they would,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to go home,\nThen they'll stone you when you're there all alone.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you're walking on the street,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to keep your seat,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking on the floor,\nThey'll stone you when you're walking to the door.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nThey'll stone you when you're at the breakfast table,\nThey'll stone you when you are young and able,\nThey'll stone you when you're trying to make a buck,\nThey'll stone you and then they'll say, \"Good luck.\"\nYeah, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\n\nWell, they'll stone you and say that it's the end,\nThen they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.\nThey'll stone you when you're riding in your car,\nThey'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.\nYes, but I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned.\nAlright!\n\nWell, they'll stone you when you are all alone,\nThey'll stone you when you are walking home,\nThey'll stone you and then say, \"You are brave,\"\nThey'll stone you when you're set down in your grave.\nBut I would not feel so all alone,\nEverybody must get stoned."}
{"name": "All Along the Watchtower", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "\"There must be some way out of here,\" said the joker to the thief,\n\"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.\nBusinessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,\nNone of them along the line know what any of it is worth.\"\n\n\"No reason to get excited,\" the thief, he kindly spoke,\n\"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke,\nBut you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate,\nSo let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.\"\n\nAll along the watchtower princes kept the view\nWhile all the women came and went, barefoot servants too.\nOutside in the distance a wildcat did growl,\nTwo riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."}
{"name": "LayQ Lady Lay", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nWhatever colors you have in your mind,\nI'll show them to you and you'll see them shine.\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed,\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nUntil the break of day let me see you make him smile.\nHis clothes are dirty, but his--his hands are clean\nAnd you're the best thing that he's ever seen.\n\nStay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile.\nWhy wait any longer for the world to begin?\nYou can have your cake and eat it too.\nWhy wait any longer for the one you love\nWhen he's standing in front of you?\n\nLay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.\nI long to see you in the morning light,\nI long to reach for you in the night.\nStay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead."}
{"name": "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Mama, take this badge off of me,\nI can't use it anymore.\nIt's getting dark, too dark to see,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door.\n\nMama, put my guns in the ground,\nI can't shoot them anymore.\nThat long, black cloud is coming down,\nI feel I'm knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door,\nKnock--knock--knocking on heaven's door."}
{"name": "Tangled Up in Blue", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Early one morning the sun was shining, I was laying in bed,\nWondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.\nHer folks, they said our lives together sure was gonna be rough,\nThey never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.\nAnd I was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on my shoes,\nHeading out for the East Coast - Lord knows, I've paid some dues getting through,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was married when we first met, soon to be divorced,\nI helped her out of a jam, I guess, but I used a little too much force.\nWe drove that car as far as we could, abandoned it out west,\nSplit up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing it was best.\nShe turned around to look at me as I was a-walking away,\nI heard her say over my shoulder, \"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,\nTangled up in blue.\"\n\nI had a job in the Great North Woods working as a cook for a spell,\nBut I never did like it all that much and one day the ax just fell,\nSo I drifted down to New Orleans where I lucky was to be employed,\nWorking for a while on a fishing boat right outside of Delacroix,\nBut all the while I was alone, the past was close behind,\nI seen a lot of women but she never escaped my mind and I just grew\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe was working in a topless place and I stopped in for a beer,\nI just kept looking at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear,\nAnd later on, when the crowd thinned out, I was just about to do the same,\nShe was standing there in back of my chair, said to me, \"Don't I know your name?\"\nI muttered something underneath my breath, she studied the lines of my face,\nI must admit, felt a little uneasy when she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nShe lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe.\n\"I thought you'd never say hello,\" she said, \"You look like the silent type.\"\nThen she opened up a book of poems and handed it to me,\nWritten by an Italian poet from the fifteenth century,\nAnd every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal,\nPouring off of every page like it was written in my soul, from me to you,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nI lived with them on Montague Street, in a basement down the stairs,\nThere was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air,\nThen he started into dealing with slaves and something inside of him died,\nShe had to sell everything she owned and froze up inside,\nAnd when it finally--the bottom fell out, I became withdrawn,\nThe only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew,\nTangled up in blue.\n\nSo now I'm going back again, I got to get to her somehow,\nAll the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now.\nSome are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives,\nDon't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doing with their lives,\nBut me, I'm still on the road, a-heading for another joint,\nWe always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view,\nTangled up in blue."}
{"name": "Hurricane", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Pistol-shots ring out in the barroom night,\nEnter Patty Valentine from the upper hall,\nShe sees a bartender in a pool of blood,\nCries out, \"My God, they've killed 'em all!\"\nHere comes the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nThree bodies lying there does Patty see\nAnd another man named Bello, moving around mysteriously.\n\"I didn't do it!\" he says and he throws up his hands,\n\"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand!\nI saw them leaving,\" he says and he stops,\n\"One of us had better call up the cops.\"\nAnd so Patty calls the cops\nAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.\n\nMeanwhile far away in another part of town,\nRubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,\nThe number one contender for the middleweight crown\nHad no idea what kind of shit was about to go down\nWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the road -\nJust like the time before and the time before that.\nIn Paterson, that's just the way things go:\nIf you're black, you might as well not show up on the street 'less you wanna draw the heat.\n\nAlfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops,\nHim and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around.\nHe said, \"I saw two men running out, they looked like middleweights,\nJumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.\"\nAnd Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head,\nCop said, \"Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead!\"\nSo they took him to the infirmary\nAnd, though this man could hardly see, they told him he could identify the guilty men.\n\nFour in the morning and they haul Rubin in,\nThey took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.\nThe wounded man looks up through his one, dying eye,\nSaid, \"Why'd you bring him in here for! He ain't the guy!\"\nHere's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nThe man the authorities came to blame\nFor something that he never done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world.\n\nFour months later, the ghettoes are in flame,\nRubin's in South America, fighting for his name,\nWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game\nAnd the cops are putting the screws to him, looking for somebody to blame.\n\"Remember that murder that you--happened in a bar?\nRemember you said you saw the getaway car?\nThink you'd like to play ball with the law?\nThink it mighta been that fighter that you saw running that night? Don't forget that you are white.\"\n\nArthur Dexter Bradley said, \"I'm really not sure.\"\nThe cops said, \"A poor boy like you could use a break -\nWe got you for the motel job and you talking to your friend, Bello,\nIf you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.\nYou'll be doing society a favor,\nThat son-of-a-bitch is brave and getting braver.\nWe wanna put his ass in the stir,\nWe wanna pin this triple murder on him - he ain't no 'Gentleman Jim'.\"\n\nRubin could take a man out with just one punch,\nBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.\n\"It's my work,\" he'd say, \"and I do it for pay\nAnd, when it's over, just as soon go on my way\"--\nUp into some paradise\nWhere the trout streams flow and the air is nice\nAnd ride a horse along the trail,\nBut then they took him to the jailhouse, where they try to turn a man into a mouse.\n\nAll of Rubin's cards were marked in advance,\nThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance:\nThe judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums,\nTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum,\nAnd to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger,\nNo one doubted that he pulled the trigger,\nAnd, though they could not produce the gun,\nThe D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.\n\nRubin Carter was falsely tried,\nThe crime was murder one, guess who testified?\n--Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied,\nThe newspapers, they all went along for the ride.\nHow can the life of such a man\nBe in the palm of some fool's hand?\nTo see him obviously framed\nCouldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game.\n\nNow all the criminals in their coats and their ties\nAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise\nWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell,\nAn innocent man in a living hell.\nYes, that's the story of the \"Hurricane\",\nBut it won't be over till they clear his name\nAnd give him back the time he's done,\nPut in a prison cell, but one time he could've been the champion of the world."}
{"name": "Forever Young", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true,\nMay you always do for others and let others do for you.\nMay you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,\nMay you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true,\nMay you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.\nMay you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young.\n\nMay your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift,\nMay you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.\nMay your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung,\nAnd may you stay forever young,\nForever young, forever young,\nMay you stay forever young."}
{"name": "Gotta Serve Somebody", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "You may be an ambassador to England or France,\nYou may like to gamble, you might like to dance,\nYou may be the heavyweight champion of the world,\nYou may be a socialite with a long string of pearls,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a rock-and-roll addict prancing on the stage,\nMight have drugs at your command, women in a cage,\nYou may be a businessman or some high-degree thief,\nThey may call you \"doctor\" or they may call you \"chief\",\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a state trooper, you might be a Young Turk,\nMay be the head of some big TV network,\nYou may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,\nMay be living in another country under another name,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you are, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMay be a construction worker working on a home,\nMight be living in a mansion, you might live in a dome,\nYou may own guns and you may even own tanks,\nYou may be somebody's landlord, you may even own banks,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it a-may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nYou may be a preacher preaching spiritual pride,\nMay be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,\nMay be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,\nYou may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nMight like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,\nMight like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,\nMight like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,\nMay be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-size bed,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, indeed, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody.\n\nNow, you may call me Terry or you may call me Timmy,\nYou may call me Bobby or you may call me Zimmy,\nYou may call me R.J., you may call me Ray,\nYou may call me anything, don't matter what you say,\nYou're still gonna have to serve somebody,\nYes, you're gonna have to serve somebody:\nWell, it may be the devil and it may be the Lord,\nBut you're gonna have to serve somebody."}
{"name": "Jokerman", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Standing on the water, casting your bread\nWhile the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.\nDistant ships sailing in through the mist,\nYou were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.\nFreedom, just around the corner for you,\nBut, with the truth so far off, what good will it do?\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nSo swiftly the sun sets in the sky,\nYou rise up and say goodbye to no one.\nFools rush in where angels fear to tread,\nBoth of their futures so full of dread -- you don't show one.\nShedding off one more layer of skin,\nKeeping one step ahead from the persecutor within.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nYou're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,\nManipulator of crowds, you're a dream-twister.\nYou're going to Sodom and Gomorrah,\nBut what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister!\nFriend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,\nYou look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,\nThe law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.\nIn the smoke of the twilight, on a milk-white steed,\nMichelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.\nResting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,\nHalf asleep 'neath the stars with a small dog licking your face.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nWell, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,\nPreacherman seeks the same -- who'll get there first is uncertain.\nNight-sticks and water-cannons, tear gas, padlocks,\nMolotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain.\nFalse-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,\nOnly a matter of time till night comes stepping in.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman.\n\nIt's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,\nA woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet.\nHe'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,\nTake the motherless children off the street,\nAnd place them at the feet of a harlot.\nOh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,\nOh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.\nJokerman, dance to the nightingale tune,\nBird, fly high by the light of the moon,\nOh, oh, oh, Jokerman."}
{"name": "Not Dark Yet", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Shadows are falling and I've been here all day,\nIt's too hot to sleep and time is running away.\nFeel like my soul has turned into steel,\nI've still got the scars that the sun did not heal.\nThere's not even room enough to be anywhere,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, my sense of humanity has gone down the drain,\nBehind every beautiful thing there's been some kinda pain.\nShe wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind,\nShe put down in writing what was in her mind.\nI just don't see why I should even care,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nWell, I've been to London and I've been to gay Paris,\nI've followed the river and I got to the sea.\nI've been down on the bottom of a world full of lies,\nI ain't looking for nothing in anyone's eyes.\nSometimes my burden is more than I can bear,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there.\n\nI was born here and I'll die here against my will,\nI know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.\nEvery nerve in my body is so vacant and numb,\nI can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from.\nDon't even hear a murmur of a prayer,\nIt's not dark yet, but it's getting there."}
{"name": "Things Have Changed", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "A worried man with a worried mind,\nNo one in front of me and nothing behind,\nThere's a woman on my lap and she's drinking champagne,\nGot white skin, got assassin's eyes,\nI'm looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies,\nI'm well dressed, waiting on the last train.\nStanding on the gallows with my head in a noose,\nAny minute now I'm expecting all hell to break loose.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nThis place ain't doing me any good,\nI'm in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood,\nJust for a second there I thought I saw something move.\nGonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag,\nAin't no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag,\nOnly a fool here would think he's got anything to prove.\nLotta water under the bridge, lotta other stuff too,\nDon't get up, gentlemen, I'm only passing through.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nI've been walking forty miles of bad road,\nIf the bible is right, the world will explode,\nI've been trying to get as far away from myself as I can.\nSome things are too hot to touch,\nThe human mind can only stand so much,\nYou can't win with a losing hand.\nFeel like falling in love with the first woman I meet,\nPutting her in a wheel-barrow and wheeling her down the street.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,\nI used to care, but things have changed.\n\nI hurt easy, I just don't show it,\nYou can hurt someone and not even know it,\nThe next sixty seconds could be like an eternity.\nGonna get low-down, gonna fly high,\nAll the truth in the world adds up to one big lie,\nI'm in love with a woman that don't even appeal to me.\nMr. Jinx and Ms. Lucy, they jumped in the lake,\nI'm not that eager to make a mistake.\nPeople are crazy, times are strange,\nI'm locked in tight, I'm outta range.\nI used to care, but things have changed."}
{"name": "Summer Days", "album": "The Best of Bob Dylan", "album_year": "2005", "text": "Summer days, summer nights are gone,\nSummer days and the summer nights are gone,\nI know a place where there's still something going on.\n\nI got a house on a hill, I got hogs out in the mud,\nI got a house on the hill, I got hogs all out in the mud,\nI got a long-haired woman, she got royal Indian blood.\n\nEverybody, get ready, lift up your glasses and sing,\nEverybody, get ready to lift up your glasses and sing,\nWell, I'm standing on the table, I'm proposing a toast to the king.\n\nWell, I'm driving in the flats in a Cadillac car,\nThe girls all say, \"You're a worn-out star.\"\nMy pockets are loaded and I'm spending every dime.\nHow can you say you love someone else? You know it's me all the time.\n\nWell, the fog's so thick you can't spy the land,\nThe fog is so thick that you can't even spy the land.\nWhat good are you anyway if you can't stand up to some old businessman?\n\nWedding bells're ringing, the choir is beginning to sing,\nYes, the wedding bells're ringing and the choir's beginning to sing,\nWhat look good in the day at night is another thing.\n\nShe's looking into my eyes, she's a-holding my hand,\nShe looking into my eyes, she's holding my hand,\nShe say, \"You can't repeat the past.\" I say, \"You can't? \nWhat do you mean you can't? Of course you can.\"\n\nWhere do you come from? Where do you go?\nSorry, that's a-nothing you would need to know.\nWell, my back's been to the wall so long it seem like it's stuck.\nWhy don't you break my heart one more time just for good luck?\n\nI got eight carburetors, boys, I'm using 'em all.\nWell, I got eight carburetors and, boys, I'm using 'em all,\nI'm short on gas, my motor's starting to stall.\n\nMy dogs are barking, there must be someone around,\nMy dogs are barking, there's must be someone around,\nI got my hammer ringing, pretty baby, but the nails ain't going down.\n\nYou got something to say, speak or hold your peace,\nWell, you got something to say, speak now or hold your peace,\nIf it's information you want, you can get it from the police.\n\nPolitician's got on his jogging shoes,\nHe must be running for office, got no time to lose.\nHe's sucking the blood out of the genius of generosity,\nYou been rolling your eyes, you been teasing me.\n\nStanding by God's river, my soul beginning to shake,\nStanding by God's river, my soul's beginning to shake,\nI'm counting on you, love, to give me a break.\n\nWell, I'm leaving in the morning as soon as the dark clouds lift,\nYes, I'm leaving in the morning just as soon as the dark clouds lift,\nGonna break in the roof, set fire to the place as a parting gift.\n\nSummer days, summer nights are gone,\nSummer days, summer nights are gone,\nI know a place where there's still something going on."}
{"name": "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'", "album": "Together through Life", "album_year": "2009", "text": "I love you, pretty baby,\nYou're the only love I've ever known.\nJust as long as you stay with me,\nThe whole world is my throne.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing we can call our own\n\nI'm moving after midnight\nDown boulevards of broken cars,\nDon't know what to do without it,\nWithout this love that we call ours.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing but the moon and stars.\n\nDown every street there's a window\nAnd every window made of glass.\nWe'll keep on loving, pretty baby,\nFor as long as love will last.\nBeyond here lies nothing\nBut the mountains of the past.\n\nMy ship is in the harbor\nAnd the sails are spread.\nListen to me, pretty baby,\nLay your hand upon my head.\nBeyond here lies nothing,\nNothing done and nothing said."}
{"name": "Duquesne Whistle", "album": "Tempest", "album_year": "2012", "text": "Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gonna sweep my world away.\nI'm gonna stop at Carmangale and keep on going,\nThat Duquesne train gon' rock me night and day.\nYou say I'm a gambler, you say I'm a pimp,\nBut I ain't neither one.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nSound like it's on a final run.\n\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she never blowed before,\nLittle light blinking, red light glowing,\nBlowing like she's at my chamber door.\nYou smiling through the fence at me\nJust like you've always smiled before.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she ain't gon' blow no more.\n\nCan't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?\nBlowing like the sky's gonna blow apart.\nYou're the only thing alive that keeps me going,\nYou're like a time bomb in my heart.\nI can hear a sweet voice steadily calling,\nMust be the mother of Our Lord.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like my woman's on board.\n\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gon' blow my blues away.\nYou're a rascal, I know exactly where you're going,\nI'll lead you there myself at the break of day.\nI wake up every morning with that woman in my bed,\nEverybody telling me she's gone to my head.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like it's gon' kill me dead.\nCan't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?\nBlowing through another no-good town.\n\nThe lights on my native land are glowing,\nI wonder if they'll know me next time 'round.\nI wonder if that old oak tree's still standing,\nThat old oak tree, the one we used to climb.\nListen to that Duquesne whistle blowing,\nBlowing like she's blowing right on time."}